It is dismal coming home, when there is nobody to welcome one!

But St. Aubert had too much good sense to prefer a charm to a virtue.

Wisdom can boast no higher attainment than happiness.

Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable; always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.

Happiness arises in a state of peace, not of tumult.

I tasted too what was called the sweet of revenge - but it was transient, it expired even with the object, that provoked it.

How despicable is that humanity, which can be contented to pity, where it might assuage!