Great Souls Are Not Those Who Have

Pity Is Often A Reflection Of Our Own Evils In The Ills Of Others. It Is A Delicate Foresight Of The Troubles Into Which We May Fall.

There Are Certain Defects Which, Well-mounted, Glitter Like Virtue Itself.

Love, Like Fire, Cannot Subsist Without Constant Impulse; It Ceases To Live From The Moment It Ceases To Hope Or To Fear.

A Man Cannot Please Long Who Has Only One Kind Of Wit.

In Love Deceit Almost Always Outstrips Distrust.