We cannot be contented because we are happy, and we cannot be happy because we are contented.

What is companionship where nothing that improves the intellect is communicated, and where the larger heart contracts itself to the model and dimension of the smaller?

Nations, like individuals, interest us in their growth.

We enter our studies, and enjoy a society which we alone can bring together. We raise no jealousy by conversing with one in preference to another; we give no offence to the most illustrious by questioning him as long as we will, and leaving him as abruptly. Diversity of opinion raises no tumult in our presence: each interlocutor stands before us, speaks or is silent, and we adjourn or decide the business at our leisure.

No thoroughly occupied person was ever found really miserable.

Authors are like cattle going to a fair: those of the same field can never move on without butting one another.

Greatness, as we daily see it, is unsociable.