“Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things.”

Our span of life is brief, but is long enough for us to live well and honestly.

In times of war, the law falls silent.

A mind without instruction can no more bear fruit than can a field, however fertile, without cultivation.

It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment.

What can be more delightful than to have some one to whom you can say everything with the same absolute confidence as to yourself?

Life is nothing without friendship.

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.

The wise are instructed by reason, average minds by experience, the stupid by necessity and the brute by instinct.

Your enemies can kill you, but only your friends can hurt you.

To study philosophy is nothing but to prepare one’s self to die.

No power on earth, if it labours beneath the burden of fear, can possibly be strong enough to survive.

He only employs his passion who can make no use of his reason.

To teach is a necessity, to please is a sweetness, to persuade is a victory.

Nobody can give you wiser advice than yourself: if you heed yourself, you’ll never go wrong.

Knowledge which is divorced from justice may be called cunning rather than wisdom.

If you have no confidence in self, you are twice defeated in the race of life. With confidence, you have won even before you have started.

Some places stay like an old memory that no matter where you are or where you go, that place is always with you like home.

I think honestly when I was younger I use to love going to carnivals in Long Island. I use to love carnival season; I would drive to every town going to carnivals. That was definitely a favorite memory.

I’d say some of my earliest scent memories are from home – just things that were around my house, and my mom’s cooking.

Memories can’t be remembered if they were never made. So I hope you make good ones.

The meaning we give to memories color our reality.

Whose souls, albeit in a cloudy memory, yet seek back their good, but, like drunk men, know not the road home.

Maybe age is kinder to us than we think. With my bad eyes, I can’t see how bad I look, and with my rotten memory, I have a good excuse for getting out of a lot of stuff.

I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.