Passions Are Defects Or Virtues In The

To Create Something You Must Be Something.

Stood I, O Nature! Man Alone In Thee, Then Were It Worth One's While A Man To Be.

The Phrases That Men Hear Or Repeat Continually, End By Becoming Convictions And Ossify The Organs Of Intelligence.

Whatever We Think Out, Whatever We Take In Hand To Do, Should Be Perfectly And Finally Finished, That The World, If It Must Alter, Will Only Have To Spoil It; We Have Then Nothing To Do But Unite The Severed, To Recollect And Restore The Dismembered.

Whoever Gives Himself Up To Solitude, Ah! He Is Soon Alone.