The only good copies are those which make us see the absurdity of bad originals.

The truest comparison we can make of love is to liken it to a fever; we have no more power over the one than the other, either as to its violence or duration.

We have more ability than will power, and it is often an excuse to ourselves that we imagine that things are impossible.

People's personalities, like buildings, have various facades, some pleasant to view, some not.

Our virtues are often, in reality, no better than vices disguised.

The happiness and unhappiness of men depends as much on their ethics as on fortune.

Envy is destroyed by true friendship, as coquetry by true love.