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

Do not crowd the understanding; it can comprehend so much and no more. A pint pot will not contain the measure of a quart.

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

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

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

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

When our friends are alive, we see the good qualities they lack; dead, we remember only those they possessed.