Now, If The Passions Had No Hold

The Last Thing We Decide In Writing A Book Is What To Put First.

Since [man] Is Infinitely Removed From Comprehending The Extremes, The End Of Things And Their Beginning Are Hopelessly Hidden From Him In An Impenetrable Secret; He Is Equally Incapable Of Seeing The Nothing From Which He Was Made, And The Infinite In Which He Is Swallowed Up.

The State Of Man Is Inconstancy, Ennui, Anxiety.

To Scorn Philosophy Is Truly To Philosophize.

To Call A King "prince" Is Pleasing, Because It Diminishes His Rank.