Nature has planted in our minds an insatiable longing to see the truth.

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The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.

A home without books is a body without soul.

Take from a man his reputation for probity, and the more shrewd and clever he is, the more hated and mistrusted he becomes.

Nothing stands out so conspicuously, or remains so firmly fixed in the memory, as something which you have blundered.

To see what is in front of one's nose needs a constant struggle.

The further a society drifts from the truth, the more it will hate those who speak it.

What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.

The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one's life.