Life is a theatre set in which there are but few practicable entrances.

He is the best gentleman that is the son of his own deserts, and not the degenerated heir of another's virtue.

The poetic element lying hidden in most women is the source of their magnetic attraction.

That is to be two and to be but one. A man and a woman mingled into one angel. It is heaven.

It may be remarked in passing that success is an ugly thing. Men are deceived by its false resemblences to merit.

Our acts make or mar us, we are the children of our own deeds.

To lie a little is not possible: he who lies, lies the whole lie.