Such a great misfortune, not to be able to be alone.

It is a sad thing when men have neither enough intelligence to speak well nor enough sense to hold their tongues; this is the root of all impertinence.

The nearer we approach great men, the clearer we see that they are men.

It is through madness that we hate an enemy, and think of revenging ourselves; and it is through indolence that we are appeased, and do not revenge ourselves.

As riches and honor forsake a man, we discover him to be a fool, but nobody could find it out in his prosperity.

When we are dead we are praised by those who survive us, though we frequently have no other merit than that of being no longer alive.

One seeks to make the loved one entirely happy, or, if that cannot be, entirely wretched.