... the evil that comes out of your lips, into your own bosom will fall.
A man nearly sixty is just as ready to suppose himself fascinating as a man of twenty.
Love, like destiny, loves surprises.
All changes are more or less tinged with melancholy, for what we are leaving behind is part of ourselves.
... how poorly do we love even those whom we love most! We are not only bruised by the limitations of their love for us, but also by the limitations of our own love for them.
There is much said about the wickedness of doing evil that good may come. Alas! there is such a thing as doing good that evil may come.