Memory seldom fails when its office is to show us the tombs of our buried hopes.

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.

There are no persons capable of stooping so low as those who desire to rise in the world.

Only vain people wage war against the vanity of others.

Wit lives in the present, but genius survives the future.

Grief is, of all the passions, the one that is the most ingenious and indefatigable in finding food for its own subsistence.

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