It is not the mere station of life that stamps the value on us, but the manner in which we act our part.
You saw his weakness, and he will never forgive you.
A noble heart will always capitulate to reason.
Posterity weaves no garlands for imitators.
No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.
A pity about the people! they are brave enough comrades, but they have heads like a soapboiler's.