Time, which alone makes the reputation of men, ends by making their defects respectable.
History is the lie commonly agreed upon.
The progress of rivers to the ocean is not so rapid as that of man to error.
It is with books as with the fires of our grates, everybody borrows a light from his neighbor to kindle his own, which in turn is communicated to others, and each partakes of all.
History is nothing but a pack of tricks that we play upon the dead.
The more often a stupidity is repeated, the more it gets the appearance of wisdom.