Our temper sets a price upon every gift that we receive from fortune.

Most of our faults are more pardonable than the means we use to conceal them.

Idleness is more an infirmity of the mind than of the body.

We often pride ourselves on even the most criminal passions, but envy is a timid and shamefaced passion we never dare to acknowledge.

Our actions are like the terminations of verses, which we rhyme as we please.

Sometimes we think we dislike flattery, but it is only the way it is done that we dislike.

There are some faults which, when well managed, make a greater figure than virtue itself.