What we cut off from our other faults is very often but so much added to our pride.

If there be a love pure and free from the admixture of our other passions, it is that which lies hidden in the bottom of our heart, and which we know not ourselves.

No men are oftener wrong than those that can least bear to be so.

It is with certain good qualities as with the senses; those who have them not can neither appreciate nor comprehend them in others.

We get so much in the habit of wearing disguises before others that we finally appear disguised before ourselves.

Everyone praises his heart, none dare praise their understanding.

Our virtues are often, in reality, no better than vices disguised.