Custom is a second nature, and no less powerful.

We imagine much more appropriately an artisan on his toilet seat or on his wife than a great president, venerable by his demeanorand his ability. It seems to us that they do not stoop from their lofty thrones even to live.

The public weal requires that men should betray, and lie, and massacre.

It is only certain that there is nothing certain, and that nothing is more miserable or more proud than man.

Peoples nurtured on freedom and self-government judge any other form of polity to be deformed and unnatural. Those who are used to monarchy do the same .

There is nothing so extreme that is not allowed by the custom of some nation or other.

Even from their infancy we frame them to the sports of love: their instruction, behavior, attire, grace, learning and all their words azimuth only at love, respects only affection. Their nurses and their keepers imprint no other thing in them.