As sins proceed they ever multiply, and like figures in arithmetic, the last stands for more than all that wert before it.

The vices we scoff at in others laugh at us within ourselves.

We carry within us the wonders we seek without us.

He is rich who hath enough to be charitable.

The man without a navel still lives in me.

I am not so much afraid of death, as ashamed thereof, 'tis the very disgrace and ignominy of our natures.

No one should approach the temple of science with the soul of a money changer.