At first we hope too much and later on, not enough.

We want our friend as a man of talent, less because he has talent than because he is our friend.

What is experience? A poor little hut constructed from the ruins of the palace of gold and marble called our illusions.

Friendship is the ideal; friends are the reality; reality always remains far apart from the ideal.

As long as we love, we lend to the beloved object qualities of mind and heart which we deprive him of when the day of misunderstanding arrives.

Certain names always awake certain prejudices.

Have friends, not for the sake of receiving, but of giving.