One is not idle because one is absorbed. There is both visible and invisible labor. To contemplate is to toil, to think is to do. The crossed arms work, the clasped hands act. The eyes upturned to Heaven are an act of creation.

He loved books; books are cold but safe friends.

We are not loved by our friends for what we are; rather, we are loved in spite of what we are.

Revery, which is thought in its nebulous state, borders closely upon the land of sleep, by which it is bounded as by a natural frontier.

There is but one way of refusing To-morrow, that is to die.

Every bird which flies has the thread of the infinite in its claw.

Adversity makes men, and prosperity makes monsters.