The pleasure a man of honor enjoys in the consciousness of having performed his duty is a reward he pays himself for all his pains.

Some young people do not sufficiently understand the advantages of natural charms, and how much they would gain by trusting to them entirely. They weaken these gifts of heaven, so rare and fragile, by affected manners and an awkward imitation. Their tones and their gait are borrowed; they study their attitudes before the glass until they have lost all trace of natural manner, and, with all their pains, they please but little.

The same common sense which makes an author write good things, makes him dread they are not good enough to deserve reading.

Great things astonish us, and small dishearten us. Custom makes both familiar.

All of our unhappiness comes from our inability to be alone.

There are some extraordinary fathers, who seem, during the whole course of their lives, to be giving their children reasons for being consoled at their death.

Foolish jokers are thick on the ground, and it rains insects of that sort everywhere. A good joker is a rarity; even a man who is such by nature finds it hard to sustain the part for long; it seldom happens that the man who makes us laugh wins our esteem.