There Are Reproaches Which Praise, And Praises

We Are Inconsolable At Being Deceived By Our Enemies And Being Betrayed By Our Friends, Yet We Are Often Content In Be Being Treated Like That By Our Own Selves.

The Greatest Part Of Our Faults Are More Excusable Than The Methods That Are Commonly Taken To Conceal Them.

If We Are To Judge Of Love By Its Consequences, It More Nearly Resembles Hatred Than Friendship.

We Exaggerate The Glory Of Some Men In Order To Detract From That Of Others.

He Who Refuses Praise The First Time That It Is Offered Does So Because He Would Hear It A Second Time.