Popular glory is a perfect coquette; her lovers must toil, feel every inquietude, indulge every caprice, and perhaps at last be jilted into the bargain. True glory, on the other hand, resembles a woman of sense; her admirers must play no tricks. They feel no great anxiety, for they are sure in the end of being rewarded in proportion to their merit.

Novels teach the youthful mind to sigh after happiness that never existed.

Unequal combinations are always disadvantageous to the weaker side.

People seldom improve when they have no other model but themselves to copy.

The fortunate circumstances of our lives are generally found, at last, to be of our own producing.

There is nothing so absurd or ridiculous that has not at some time been said by some philosopher.

What real good does an addition to a fortune already sufficient procure? Not any. Could the great man, by having his fortune increased, increase also his appetites, then precedence might be attended with real amusement.