It is well there is no one without fault; for he would not have a friend in the world. He would seem to belong to s different species.

A King (as such) is not a great man. He has great power, but it is not his own.

In what we really understand, we reason but little.

Man is a make-believe animal: he is never so truly himself as when he is acting a part.

There are few things in which we deceive ourselves more than in the esteem we profess to entertain for our firends. It is little better than a piece of quackery. The truth is, we think of them as we please, that is, as they please or displease us.

We are never so much disposed to quarrel with others as when we are dissatisfied with ourselves.

I hate anything that occupies more space than it is worth... I hate to see a parcel of big words without anything in them.