The passions are like fire, useful in a thousand ways and dangerous only in one, through their excess.

Economy is for the poor; the rich may dispense with it.

All good writing leaves something unexpressed.

Love delights in paradoxes. Saddest when it has most reason to be gay, sighs are the signs of its deepest joy, and silence is the expression of its yearning tenderness.

We make way for the man who boldly pushes past us.

The lively and mercurial are as open books, with the leaves turned down at the notable passages. Their souls sit at the windows of their eyes, seeing and to be seen.

Doubt whom you will, but never yourself.