“It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves.”

Once you are married, there is nothing left for you, not even suicide.

Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.

You can forgive people who do not follow you through a philosophical disquisition.

When a torrent sweeps a man against a boulder, you must expect him to scream, and you need not be surprised if the scream is sometimes a theory.

There is a fellowship more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect.

There is no progress whatever. Everything is just the same as it was thousands, and tens of thousands, of years ago. The outward form changes. The essence does not change.

The world is full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.

All human beings are commingled out of good and evil.

Politics is perhaps the only profession for which no preparation is thought necessary.

We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend.

Nothing like a little judicious levity.

The mark of a good action is that it appears inevitable in retrospect.

Each has his own tree of ancestors, but at the top of all sits Probably Arboreal.

So long as we love, we serve; so long as we are loved by others.

You could read Kant by yourself, if you wanted; but you must share a joke with some one else.

I should say that we are almost indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend.