Though nature be ever so generous, yet can she not make a hero alone. Fortune must contribute her part too; and till both concur, the work cannot be perfected.

Perseverance is neither praiseworthy nor blameworthy; for it seems to be only the enduring of certain inclinations and opinions which men neither give themselves nor take away from themselves.

We feel good and ill only in proportion to our self-love.

It is most difficult to speak when we are ashamed of being silent.

Simplicity is a delicate imposition.

Men are often so foolish as to boast and value themselves upon their passions, even those that are most vicious. But envy is a passion so full of cowardice and shame that no one every ever had the confidence to own it.

Love, like fire, cannot subsist without constant impulse; it ceases to live from the moment it ceases to hope or to fear.