It Is Much More Easy To Accuse

Ambition Is, Of All Other, The Most Contrary Humor To Solitude; And Glory And Repose Are So Inconsistent That They Cannot Possibly Inhabit One And The Same Place; And For So Much As I Understand, Those Have Only Their Arms And Legs Disengaged From The Crowd, Their Mind And Intention Remain Engaged Behind More Than Ever.

The Human Face Is A Weak Guarantee; Yet It Deserves Some Consideration. And If I Had To Whip The Wicked, I Would Do So More Severely To Those Who Belied And Betrayed The Promises That Nature Had Implanted On Their Brows; I Would Punish Malice More Harshly When It Was Hidden Under A Kindly Appearance.

The Ceaseless Labour Of Your Life Is To Build The House Of Death.

I See This Evident, That We Willingly Accord To Piety Only The Services That Flatter Our Passions.

The Souls Of Emperors And Cobblers Are Cast In The Same Mould