We imagine that the admiration of the works of celebrated men has become common, because the admiration of their names has become so.

The best way to make ourselves agreeable to others is by seeming to think them so. If we appear fully sensible of their good qualities they will not complain of the want of them in us.

Lying is the strongest acknowledgement of the force of truth.

The temple of fame stands upon the grave: the flame that burns upon its altars is kindled from the ashes of great men.

Women never reason, and therefore they are (comparatively) seldom wrong.

The safest kind of praise is to foretell that another will become great in some particular way. It has the greatest show of magnanimity and the least of it in reality.

Belief is with them mechanical, voluntary: they believe what they are paid for - they swear to that which turns to account. Do you suppose, that after years spent in this manner, they have any feeling left answering to the difference between truth and falsehood?