The writing of the wise are the only riches our posterity cannot squander.

What is reading but silent conversation?

The vain poet is of the opinion that nothing of his can be too much: he sends to you basketful after basketful of juiceless fruit, covered with scentless flowers.

O what a thing is age! Death without death's quiet.

Men universally are ungrateful towards him who instructs them, unless, in the hours or in the intervals of instruction, he presents a sweet-cake to their self-love.

The spirit of Greece, passing through and ascending above the world, hath so animated universal nature, that the very rocks and woods, the very torrents and wilds burst forth with it.

Great men lose somewhat of their greatness by being near us; ordinary men gain much.