Alas, the transports beauty can inspire!

Heaven lent you a soul, Earth will lend a grave.

There is no sense of weariness like that which closes in a day of eager and unintermittent pursuit of pleasure. The apple is eaten, but "the core sticks in the throat." Expectation has then given way to ennui, appetite to satiety.

There is no tyrant like custom, and no freedom where its edicts are not resisted.

Complaint is. more contemptible than pitiful.

Contentment is not happiness. An oyster may be contented. Happiness is compounded of richer elements.

The body of a sensualist is the coffin of a dead soul.