The praise we give to new comers into the world arises from the envy we bear to those who are established.

All women are flirts, but some are restrained by shyness, and others by sense.

Lovers, when they are no longer in love, find it very hard to break up.

There is a kind of love, the excess of which forbids jealousy.

We sometimes imagine we hate flattery, but we only hate the way we are flattered.

Love's greatest miracle is the curing of coquetry.

It is not enough that we should succeed, but our friends must fail as well.