In their early passions women are in love with the lover, later they are in love with love.

We easily forget our faults when no one knows them but ourselves.

We only acknowledge small faults in order to make it appear that we are free from great ones.

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.

He is a truly virtuous man who wishes always to be open to the observation of honest men.

Women can less easily surmount their coquetry than their passions.

Friendship is only a reciprocal conciliation of interests, and an exchange of good offices; it is a species of commerce out of which self-love always expects to gain something.