Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure.

He had slipped, climbed, rolled, searched, walked, persevered, that is all. Such is the secret of all triumphs.

Upon the first goblet he read this inscription, monkey wine; upon the second, lion wine; upon the third, sheep wine; upon the fourth, swine wine. These four inscriptions expressed the four descending degrees of drunkenness: the first, that which enlivens; the second, that which irritates; the third, that which stupefies; finally the last, that which brutalizes.

Jesus wept; Voltaire smiled. From that divine tear and from that human smile is derived the grace of present civilization.

If people did not love one another, I really don't see what use there would be in having any spring.

Sacrificing the earth for paradise is giving up the substance for the shadow.

Yes, instruction! Light! Light! Everything comes from light, and to everything it returns.