Every relation, every gradation of nature is incalculably precious, but only to the soul which is poised upon itself, and to whom no loss, no change, can bring dull discord, for it is in harmony with the central soul.
When one tries to rise above Nature one is liable to fall below it.
When Nature begins to reveal her open secret to a man, he feels an irresistible longing for her worthiest interpreter, Art.
What we observe is not nature itself, but nature exposed to our method of questioning.
What is toleration? It is the appurtenance of humanity. We are all full of weakness and errors; let us mutually pardon each other our follies—it is the first law of nature.
What is motherhood save Nature in her most gladsome mood?
What is Art, monsieur, but Nature concentrated?
We are not ourselves when nature, being oppress’d, commands the mind to suffer with the body.
To rebel against nature amounted to rebelling against oneself.
There’s nothing like death for bringing out the meanness of human nature.
There is nothing, nothing in heaven, or in nature or in mind or anywhere else which does not equally contain both immediacy and mediation.
There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature.
