Jean Antoine Petit-Senn Quotes

Happiness is where we find it, but rarely where we seek it.

The wonderful fortune of some writers deludes and leads to misery a great number of young people.

That experience which does not make us better makes us worse.

There is certainly no beauty on earth which exceeds the natural loveliness of woman.

None despise fame more heartily than those who have no possible claim to it.

The weak-minded man is the slave of his vices and the dupe of his virtues.

No woman dares express all she thinks.

In love we are not only liable to betray ourselves, but also the secrets of others.

Religion is the hospital of the souls that the world has wounded.

People who declare that they belong to no party certainly do not belong to ours.

Every generous illusion of youth leaves a wrinkle as it departs. Experience is the successive disenchanting of the things of life; it is reason enriched with the heart's spoils.

A pedant holds more to instruct us with what he knows, than of what we are ignorant.

How many wells of science there are in whose depths there is nothing but clear water!

Public opinion is a courtesan, whom we seek to please without respecting.

It is more pitiable once to have been rich than not to be rich now.

The great chastisement of a knave is not to be known, but to know himself.

Women always find their bitterest foes among their own sex.

In giving alms, let us rather look at the needs of the poor than his claim to your charity.

Our interests are grains of opium to our consciences, but they only put it to sleep for a terrible awakening.

The less power a man has, the more he likes to use it.

Nothing for preserving the body like having no heart.

True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher.

Of all trifles, titles are the lightest.

The happiness of the tender heart is increased by what it can take away from the wretchedness of others.

Another life, if it were not better than this, would be less a promise than a threat.

There are some errors so sweet that we repent them only to bring them to memory.

Pleasure and satiety live next door to each other.

It is not what we have but what we enjoy that constitutes our abundance.

Where talent is a dwarf, self-esteem is a giant.

Some delicate matters must be treated like pins, because if they are not seized by the right end, we get pricked.

Our virtues live upon our incomes; our vices consume our capital.

To protect ourselves against the storms of passion, marriage with a woman is a harbor in the tempest; but with a bad woman it is a tempest in the harbor.

Many fortunes, like rivers, have a pure source, but grow muddy as they grow large.

The virtuous woman flees from danger; she trusts more to her prudence in shunning it than in her strength to overcome it.

What we gain by experience is not worth that we lose in illusion

There are wounds of self-love which one does not confess to one's dearest friends.

Doubt springs from the mind; faith is the daughter of the soul.

We tire of those pleasures we take, but never of those we give.

Age whitens hairs, but not sin.

Conscience serves us especially to judge of the actions of others.

The grave is a crucible where memory is purified; we only remember a dead friend by those qualities which make him regretted.

In all that surrounds him the egotist sees only the frame of his own portrait.

That prudery which survives youth and beauty resembles a scarecrow left in the fields after harvest.

The wonderful fortune of some writers deludes and leads to misery a great number of young people. It cannot be too often repeated that it is dangerous to enter upon a career of letters without some other means of living. An illustrious author has said in these times, "Literature must not be leant on as upon a crutch; it is little more than a stick.

There are philanthropists who, incapable of managing their own little affairs, take upon themselves those of the whole world; but as their creditors always outnumber their disciples, they owe humanity more than she will ever owe them.

We are told to walk noiselessly through the world, that we may waken neither hatred, nor envy; but, alas! what can we do when they never sleep!

The hatred we bear our enemies injures their happiness less than our own.

The politics of courtiers resemble their shadows; they cringe and turn with the sun of the day.