Dying is nothing. What's terrible is not to live.
Let us sacrifice one day to gain perhaps a whole life.
Death belongs to God alone; by what right do men touch that unknown thing?
The memory of an absent person shines in the deepest recesses of the heart, shining the more brightly the more wholly its object has vanished: a light on the horizon of the despairing, darkened spirit; a star gleaming in our inward night.
He who is not master of his own thoughts is not accountable for his own deeds.
True or false, that which is said of men often occupies as important a place in their lives, and above all in their destinies, as that which they do.