We only confess our little faults to persuade people that we have no big ones.

We are not fond of praising, and never praise any one except from interested motives. Praise is a clever, concealed, and delicate flattery, which gratifies in different ways the giver and the receiver. The one takes it as a recompense of his merit, and the other bestows it to display his equity and discernment.

The smallest fault of women who give themselves up to love is to love.

Raillery is more insupportable than wrong; because we have a right to resent injuries, but are ridiculous in being angry at a jest.

The common foible of women who have been handsome is to forget that they are no longer so.

A small degree of wit, accompanied by good sense, is less tiresome in the long run than a great amount of wit without it.

All who know their own minds know not their own hearts.