Always To Distrust Is An Error, As

Must It Ever Be Thus-that The Source Of Our Happiness Must Also Be The Fountain Of Our Misery? The Full And Ardent Sentiment Which Animated My Heart With The Love Of Nature, Overwhelming Me With A Torrent Of Delight, And Which Brought All Paradise Before Me, Has Now Become An Insupportable Torment, A Demon Which Perpetually Pursues And Harrasses Me.

A Human Being Needs Only A Small Plot Of Ground On Which To Be Happy, And Even Less To Lie Beneath.

Nothing Is More Terrible Than To See Ignorance In Action.

Hope Enough To Remove All Anxious Fears Concerning The Future.

At All Times It Has Not Been The Age, But Individuals Alone, Who Have Worked For Knowledge. It Was The Age Which Put Socrates To Death By Poison, The Age Which Burnt Huss. The Ages Have Always Remained Alike.