Wit sometimes enables us to act rudely with impunity.

Hope, deceiving as it is, serves at least to lead us to the end of our lives by an agreeable route.

We often persuade ourselves to love people who are more powerful than we are, yet interest alone produces our friendship; we do not give our hearts away for the good we wish to do, but for that we expect to receive.

We forget our faults easily when they are known to ourselves alone.

Renewed friendships require more care than those that have never been broken.

The secret of pleasing in conversation is not to explain too much everything; to say them half and leave a little for divination is a mark of the good opinion we have of others, and nothing flatters their self-love more.

As uncommon a thing as true love is, it is yet easier to find than true friendship.