Many minds that have withstood the most severe trials have been broken down by a succession of ignoble cares.

Haste is always ungraceful.

Society seldom forgives those who have discovered the emptiness of its pleasures, and who can live independent of it and them.

Love in France is a comedy; in England a tragedy; in Italy an opera seria; and in Germany a melodrama.

People seem to lose all respect for the past; events succeed each other with such velocity that the most remarkable one of a few years gone by, is no more remembered than if centuries had closed over it.

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

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