It is a sad thing to look at happiness only through another's eyes.

Reason dissipates the illusions of life, but does not console us for their departure.

Listeners beware, for ye are doomed never to hear good of yourselves.

Thoughts come maimed and plucked of plumage from the lips, which, from the pea, in the silence of your own leisure and study, would be born with far more beauty.

Imagination, which is the Eldorado of the poet and of the novel-writer, often proves the most pernicious gift to the individuals who compose the talkers instead of the writers in society.

Love and enthusiasm are always ridiculous, when not reciprocated by their objects.

Society punishes not the vices of its members, but their detection.