A woman in love has full intelligence of her power; the more virtuous she is, the more effective her coquetry.

Many men nourish a pride which urges them to conceal their struggles and show themselves only as conquerors.

Love endows us with a sort of personal religion; we respect another live within ourselves.

Love is the only way on which even the dim-witted reaches certain heights.

A man's own vanity is a swindler that never lacks for a dupe.

Emulation admires and strives to imitate great actions; envy is only moved to malice.

Virtue is always too much of a piece and too ignorant of those shades of feeling and of temperament that enable us to squint when we are placed in a false position.