Unhappy love freezes all our affections: our own souls grow inexplicable to us. More than we gained while we were happy we lose by the reverse.

The thing that must be preserved in all situations whatever is the reputation of one's character.

A man must know how to fly in the face of opinion; a woman to submit to it.

Tombs decked by the arts can scarcely represent death as a formidable enemy; we do not, indeed, like the ancients, carve sports and dances in the sarcophagus, but thought is diverted from the bier by works that tell of immortality, even from the altar of death.

Between God and love, I recognize no mediator but my conscience.

Happy the land where the writers are sad, the merchants satisfied, the rich melancholic, and the populace content.

Exile: A tomb in which you can get mail.