Animals are nothing but the portrayal of our virtues and vices made manifest to our eyes, the visible reflections of our souls.

Is there not in every human soul a primitive spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world and immortal in the next, which can be developed by goodness, kindled, lit up, and made to radiate, and which evil can never entirely extinguish.

Thought is the work of the intellect, reverie is its self-indulgence. To substitute day-dreaming for thought is to confuse a poison with a source of nourishment.

God has set his intentions in the flowers, in the dawn, in the spring, it is his will that we should love.

It seems as though, at the approach of a certain dark hour, the light of heaven infills those who are leaving the light of earth.

Our acts make or mar us, we are the children of our own deeds.

The most excellent symbol of the people is the paving stone. One walks on it until it falls on one's head.