The heart is forever making the head its fool.

Of all our faults, the one that we excuse most easily is idleness.

Our hopes, often though they deceive us, lead us pleasantly along the path of life.

There is something to be said for jealousy, because it only designs the preservation of some good which we either have or think wehave a right to. But envy is a raging madness that cannot bear the wealth or fortune of others.

We only confess our little faults to persuade people that we have no big ones.

The great interests of man: air and light, the joy of having a body, the voluptuousness of looking.

What we take for virtue is often nothing but an assemblage of different actions, and of different interests, that fortune or our industry knows how to arrange.