Love sometimes elevates, creates new qualities, suspends the working of evil inclinations; but only for a day. Love, then, is an Oriental despot, whose glance lifts a slave from the dust, and then consigns him to it again.

People read every thing nowadays, except books.

In youth, grief comes with a rush and overflow, but it dries up, too, like the torrent. In the winter of life it remains a miserable pool, resisting all evaporation.

As we advance in life the circle of our pains enlarges, while that of our pleasures contracts.

To have ideas is to gather flowers; to think is to weave them into garlands.

There are words which are worth as much as the best actions, for they contain the germ of them all.

Men are always invoking justice; yet it is justice which should make them tremble.