The more we love, the nearer we are to hate.

Youth changes its tastes by the warmth of its blood; age retains its tastes by habit.

There are two sorts of constancy in love one arises from continually discovering in the loved person new subjects for love, the other arises from our making a merit of being constant.

Idleness and fear keeps us in the path of duty, but our virtue often gets the praise.

A respectable man may love madly, but not foolishly.

Wisdom is the mind what health is to the body.

In love the deceit generally outstrips the distrust.