It is difficult to like those whom we do not esteem; but it is no less so to like those whom we esteem more than ourselves.

The exceeding delight we take in talking about ourselves should give us cause to fear that we are giving but very little pleasureto our listeners.

What is perfectly true is perfectly witty.

Too great refinement is false delicacy, and true delicacy is solid refinement.

The heart of man ever finds a constant succession of passions, so that the destroying and pulling down of one proves generally tobe nothing else but the production and the setting up of another.

If we did not have pride, we would not complain of it in others.

The hate of favourites is only a love of favour. The envy of NOT possessing it, consoles and softens its regrets by the contempt it evinces for those who possess it, and we refuse them our homage, not being able to detract from them what attracts that of the rest of the world.