Of all the virtues necessary to the completion of the perfect man, there is none to be more delicately implied and less ostentatiously vaunted than that of exquisite feeling or universal benevolence.

Honest men are the gentlemen of nature.

There is no tongue that flatters like a lover's; and yet, in the exaggeration of his feelings, flattery seems to him commonplace. Strange and prodigal exuberance, which soon exhausts itself by flowing!

Happiness and virtue rest upon each other; the best are not only the happiest, but the happiest are usually the best.

At court one becomes a sort of human ant eater, and learns to catch one's prey by one's tongue.

Love like Death,, Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook Beside the scepter

Our very wretchedness grows dear to us when suffering for one we love.