It is not what we have but what we enjoy that constitutes our abundance.
Women always find their bitterest foes among their own sex.
The hatred we bear our enemies injures their happiness less than our own.
That prudery which survives youth and beauty resembles a scarecrow left in the fields after harvest.
Our virtues live upon our incomes; our vices consume our capital.
It is almost impossible to find those who admire us entirely lacking in taste.