Nature seems at each man's birth to have marked out the bounds of his virtues and vices, and to have determined how good or how wicked that man shall be capable of being.

Virtue would not make such advances if there were not a little vanity to keep it company.

Taste may change, but inclination never.

Praise is flattery, artful, hidden, delicate, which gratifies differently him who praises and him who is praised. The one takes it as the reward of merit, the other bestows it to show his impartiality and knowledge.

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

No persons are more frequently wrong, than those who will not admit they are wrong.

Sometimes in life situations develop that only the half-crazy can get out of.