Men of gravity are intellectual stammerers, whose thoughts move slowly.
People are not soured by misfortune, but by the reception they meet with in it.
We must overact our part in some measure, in order to produce any effect at all.
Love turns, with a little indulgence, to indifference or disgust; hatred alone is immortal.
Reflection brakes men cowards. There is no object that can be put in competition with life, unless it is viewed through the medium of passion, and we are hurried away by the impulse of the moment.
The temple of fame stands upon the grave: the flame that burns upon its altars is kindled from the ashes of great men.