From that moment our love became sad, and sadness is a disease which gives the death-blow to affection.
In fact, to gull a fool seems to me an exploit worthy of a witty man.
Praise the beautiful for their intelligence and the intelligent for their beauty.
Man is free; but not unless he believes he is[.]
I have had friends who have acted kindly towards me, and it has been my good fortune to have it in my power to give them substantial proofs of my gratitude.
Nobody can deprive me of the fact that I had a good time.