The only thing that should astonish us is that anything can yet astonish us.

We are never so happy, nor so unhappy, as we suppose ourselves to be.

When the soul is ruffled by the remains of one passion, it is more disposed to entertain a new one than when it is entirely curedand at rest from all.

Sometimes we think we dislike flattery, but it is only the way it is done that we dislike.

What makes lovers never tire of one another is that they talk always about themselves.

The violence we do to ourselves in order to remain faithful to the one we love is hardly better than an act of infidelity.

Self-love makes our friends appear more or less deserving in proportion to the delight we take in them, and the measures by whichwe judge of their worth depend upon the manner of their conversing with us.