Ridicule dishonours more than dishonour.

Avarice misapprehends itself almost always. There is no passion which more often will miss its aim, nor upon which the present has so much influence to the prejudice of the future.

We always like those who admire us.

We are nearer loving those who hate us than those who love us more than we wish.

A true friend is the most precious of all possessions and the one we take the least thought about acquiring.

Our own distrust gives a fair pretence for the knavery of other people.

Even the most disinterested love is, after all, but a kind of bargain, in which self-love always proposes to be the gainer one wayor another.