The heart of man ever finds a constant succession of passions, so that the destroying and pulling down of one proves generally tobe nothing else but the production and the setting up of another.

Idleness and constancy fix the mind to what it finds easy and agreeable. This habit always confines and cramps up our knowledge; and no one has ever taken the trouble to stretch and carry his understanding as far as it could go.

Those who are incapable of committing great crimes do not readily suspect them in others.

When our vices desert us, we flatter ourselves that we are deserting our vices.

There are few virtuous women who are not bored with their trade.

If we never flattered ourselves we should have but scant pleasure.

It is with certain good qualities as with the senses; those who have them not can neither appreciate nor comprehend them in others.