Logic is the art of convincing us some truth.

We meet With few utterly dull and stupid souls: the sublime and transcendent are still fewer; the generality of mankind stand between these two extremes: the interval is filled with multitudes of ordinary geniuses, but all very useful, and the ornaments and supports of the commonwealth.

Manners carry the world for the moment, character for all time.

The sweetest of all sounds is that of the voice of the woman we love.

Outward simplicity befits ordinary men, like a garment made to measure for them; but it serves as an adornment to those who have filled their lives with great deeds: they might be compared to some beauty carelessly dressed and thereby all the more attractive.

We can recognize the dawn and the decline of love by the uneasiness we feel when alone together.

Misers are neither relations, nor friends, nor citizens, nor Christians, nor perhaps even human beings.