Books Are A Languid Pleasure.

I Have Gathered A Posy Of Other Men’s Flowers And Only The Thread That Bonds Them Is My Own.

One May Disavow And Disclaim Vices That Surprise Us And Whereto Our Passions Transport Us. But Those Which By Long Habit Are Rooted In A Strong And Anchored In A Powerful Will Are Not Subject To Contradiction. Repentance Is But A Denying Of Our Will, And An Opposition Of Our Fantasies, Which Diverts Us Here And There.

I Am Disgusted With Innovation, In Whatever Guise, And With Reason, For I Have Seen Very Harmful Effects Of It.

We Have The Pleasures Suitable To Our Lot; Let Us Not Usurp Those Of Greatness. Ours Are More Natural And All The More Solid And Sure For Being Humbler. Since We Will Not Do So Out Of Conscience, At Least Out Of Ambition Let Us Reject Ambition.

It Is A Rare Life That Remains Orderly Even In Private.