Wickedness sucks in the greater part of its own venom and poisons itself therewith
Wickedness sucks in the greater part of its own venom and poisons itself therewith
Only he can judge of matters great and high whose soul is likewise.
Philosophy is doubt.
Virtue craves a steep and thorny path.
We endeavor more that men should speak of us, than how and what they speak, and it sufficeth us that our name run in men's mouths, in what manner soever. It stemma that to be known is in some sort to have life and continuance in other men's keeping.
The most unhappy and frail creatures are men and yet they are the proudest.
We have more poets than judges and interpreters of poetry. It is easier to write an indifferent poem than to understand a good one.
I find that the best goodness I have has some tincture of vice.
And one might therefore say of me that in this book I have only made up a bunch of other peoples flowers, and that of my own I have only provided the string that ties them together.
I see men ordinarily more eager to discover a reason for things than to find out whether the things are so.
Let us give Nature a chance she knows her business better than we do.
I conceive that pleasures are to be avoided if greater pains be the consequence, and pains to be coveted that will terminate in greater pleasures.
It is humankind's duty to respect all life, not only animals have feelings but even also trees and plants.
It is not death that alarms me, but dying.
How many valiant men we have seen to survive their own reputation.
Not because Socrates said so, but because it is in truth my own disposition and perchance to some excess I look upon all men as my compatriots, and embrace a Pole as a Frenchman, making less account of the national than of the universal and common bond.
Satiety comes of too frequent repetition and he who will not give himself leisure to be thirsty can never find the true pleasure of drinking
My art and profession is to live.
He who is not very strong in memory should not meddle with lying.
No wind favors him who has no destined port.
Of all the infirmities we have, the most savage is to despise our being.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories