Only The Fools Are Certain And Assured.

One Must Be A Little Foolish If One Does Not Want To Be Even More Stupid.

Man Is The Sole Animal Whose Nudities Offend His Own Companions, And The Only One Who, In His Natural Actions, Withdraws And Hides Himself From His Own Kind.

To Compose Our Character Is Our Duty, Not To Compose Books, And To Win, Not Battles And Provinces, But Order And Tranquility In Our Conduct. Our Great And Glorious Masterpiece Is To Live Appropriately. All Other Things, Ruling, Hoarding, Building, Are Only Little Appendages And Props, At Most.

Ambition Is, Of All Other, The Most Contrary Humor To Solitude; And Glory And Repose Are So Inconsistent That They Cannot Possibly Inhabit One And The Same Place; And For So Much As I Understand, Those Have Only Their Arms And Legs Disengaged From The Crowd, Their Mind And Intention Remain Engaged Behind More Than Ever.

Tis The Taste Of Effeminacy That Disrelishes Ordinary And Accustomed Things.