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

It seems that nature, which has so wisely disposed our bodily organs with a view to our happiness, has also bestowed on us pride, to spare us the pain of being aware of our imperfections.

Some men are so full of themselves that when they fall in love, they amuse themselves rather with their own passion than with theperson they love.

I always say to myself, what is the most important thing we can think about at this extraordinary moment.

The generality of men have, like plants, latent properties, which chance brings to light.

It is oftener by the estimation of our own feelings that we exaggerate the good qualities of others than by their merit, and when we praise them we wish to attract their praise.

Love, like fire, cannot subsist without constant impulse; it ceases to live from the moment it ceases to hope or to fear.