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

One is never fortunate or as unfortunate as one imagines.

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

Truth does not do as much good in the world as its imitations do harm.

Jealousy contains more of self-love than of love.

Tastes in young people are changed by natural impetuosity, and in the aged are preserved by habit.

We are almost always wearied in the company of persons with whom we are not permitted to be weary.