Mankind are so ready to bestow their admiration on the dead, because the latter do not hear it, or because it gives no pleasure to the objects of it. Even fame is the offspring of envy.
The imagination is of so delicate a texture that even words wound it.
We talk little when we do not talk about ourselves.
True friendship is self-love at second-hand.
The art of conversation is the art of hearing as well as of being heard.
No truly great person ever thought themselves so.