He that knew all that learning ever writ, Knew only this - that he knew nothing yet.

He that knew all that learning ever writ, Knew only this - that he knew nothing yet

Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.

Faith, sir, we are here today, and gone tomorrow.

Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret.

That perfect tranquillity of life, which is nowhere to be found but in retreat, a faithful friend and a good library.