The heart is forever making the head its fool.

We are so used to dissembling with others that in time we come to deceive and dissemble with ourselves.

A man would rather say evil of himself than say nothing.

Ideas often flash across our minds more complete than we could make them after much labor.

Our repentances are generally not so much a concern and remorse for the harm we have done, as a fear of the harm we may have brought upon ourselves.

Moderation in people who are contented comes from that calm that good fortune lends to their spirit.

Nothing hinders a thing from being natural so much as the straining ourselves to make it seem so.