Very few people are acquainted with death. They undergo it, commonly, not so much out of resolution as custom and insensitivity; and most men die because they cannot help it.

As the great ones of this world are unable to bestow health of body or peace of mind, we always pay too high a price for any good they can do.

We may sooner be brought to love them that hate us, than them that love us more than we would have them do.

It is much easier to seem fitted for posts we do not fill than for those we do.

Unfaithfulness ought to extinguish love, and we should not be jealous when there is reason to be. Only those who give no grounds for jealousy are worthy of it.

Why is it that our memory is good enough to retain the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not good enough to recollect how often we have told it to the same person?

Sometimes there are accidents in our lives the skillful extrication from which demands a little folly.