To rove about, musing, that is to say loitering, is, for a philosopher, a good way of spending time, especially in that kind of mock rurality, ugly but odd, and partaking of two natures, which surrounds certain large cities, particularly Paris.

Habit is the nursery of errors.

Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause.

He does not weep who does not see.

His whole life was now summed up in two words: absolute uncertainty within an impenetrable fog.

Thus, during those nineteen years of torture and slavery, did this soul rise and fall at the same time. Light entered on the one side, and darkness on the other.

God made the water but men made the wine.