The instruction we find in books is like fire. We fetch it from our neighbours, kindle it at home, communicate it to others, and it becomes the property of all.
If you are attacked as regards your style, never reply; it is for your work alone to make answer.
The more you know, the less sure you are.
The superstitious man is to the rogue what the slave is to the tyrant.
Your destiny is that of a man, your vows those of a god.
This poem will never reach its destination. On Rousseau's Ode To Posterity