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

Here Fashion is a despot, and no one dreams of evading its dictates.

The infirmities of genius are often mistaken for its privileges.

Only vain people wage war against the vanity of others.

The future: A consolation for those who have no other.

Borrowed thoughts, like borrowed money, only show the poverty of the borrower.

Satire, like conscience, reminds us of what we often wish to forget.