The Plague Of Man Is Boasting Of

Can Anything Be Imagined So Ridiculous That This Miserable And Wretched Creature, Who Is Not So Much As Master Of Himself, But Subject To The Injuries Of All Things, Should Call Himself Master And Emperor Of The World, Of Which He Has Not Power To Know The Least Part, Much Less To Command The Whole?

There Is A Plague On Man, The Opinion That He Knows Something.

Order A Purge For Your Brain, It Will There Be Much Better Employed Than Upon Your Stomach.

The Shortest Way To Arrive At Glory Should Be To Do That For Conscience Which We Do For Glory. And The Virtue Of Alexander Appears To Me With Much Less Vigor In His Theater Than That Of Socrates In His Mean And Obscure. I Can Easily Conceive Socrates In The Place Of Alexander, But Alexander In That Of Socrates I Cannot.

There Is Not One Of Us That Would Not Be Worse Than Kings, If So Continually Corrupted As They Are With A Sort Of Vermin Called Flatterers.