If it were not for poetry, few men would ever fall in love.

Our repentances are generally not so much a concern and remorse for the harm we have done, as a fear of the harm we may have brought upon ourselves.

Whatever pretended causes we may blame our afflictions upon, it is often nothing but self-interest and vanity that produce them.

Moderation is the feebleness and sloth of the soul, whereas ambition is the warmth and activity of it.

What makes the pain we feel from shame and jealousy so cutting is that vanity can give us no assistance in bearing them.

Jealousy contains more of self-love than of love.

The truest mark of being born with great qualities is to be born without envy.