We seldom find any person of good sense, except those who share our opinions.

It is a species of coquetry to make a parade of never practising it.

It is sometimes necessary to play the fool to avoid being deceived by cunning men.

When love becomes labored we welcome an act of infidelity towards ourselves to free us from fidelity.

If there be a love pure and free from the admixture of our other passions, it is that which lies hidden in the bottom of our heart, and which we know not ourselves.

In the misfortunes of our best friends we always find something not altogether displeasing to us.

There are a great many men valued in society who have nothing to recommend them but serviceable vices.