We are dismayed when we find that even disaster cannot cure us of our faults.
The favorites of fortune or of fame topple from their pedestals before our eyes without diverting us from ambition.
Wit does not take the place of knowledge.
Jealousy is the paralysis of love.
Servitude debases men to the point where they end up liking it.
It is easy to criticize an author, but difficult to appreciate him.