The Saints Were His Friends, And Blessed

...but Listen, There Will Be More Joy In Heaven Over The Tears Of A Repentant Sinner Than Over The White Robes Of A Hundred Just Men.

I'd Rather Be Hissed At For A Good Verse, Than Applauded For A Bad One.

To Rove About, Musing, That Is To Say Loitering, Is, For A Philosopher, A Good Way Of Spending Time, Especially In That Kind Of Mock Rurality, Ugly But Odd, And Partaking Of Two Natures, Which Surrounds Certain Large Cities, Particularly Paris.

The Man Is Placed Where The Earth Ends, The Woman, Where The Heaven Starts.

Let Us Study Things That Are No More. It Is Necessary To Understand Them, If Only To Avoid Them.