There is a sort of gratification in doing good which makes us rejoice in ourselves.

We are entirely made up of bits and pieces, woven together so diversely and so shapelessly that each one of them pulls its own way at every moment.

We must not attach knowledge to the mind, we have to incorporate it there.

I have often seen people uncivil by too much civility, and tiresome in their courtesy.

The Stoics forbid this emotion to their sages as being base and cowardly.

Just as any foreigner is not fully human.

What hits you affects you and wakes you up more then what pleases you.