Most men, like plants, possess hidden qualities which chance discovers.

Criticism sometimes is really praise, and praise sometimes slander.

Jealousy lives upon doubts. It becomes madness or ceases entirely as soon as we pass from doubt to certainty.

Gratitude, in most men, is only a strong and secret hope of greater favors.

There are a great many simpletons who know themselves to be so, and who make a very cunning use of their own simplicity.

The violence we do to ourselves in order to remain faithful to the one we love is hardly better than an act of infidelity.

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