There Is Neither Vice Nor Virtue, There

Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

I Declare, On My Soul And Conscience, That The Attainment Of Power, Or Of A Great Name In Literature, Seemed To Me An Easier Victory Than A Success With Some Young, Witty, And Gracious Lady Of High Degree.

Generally Our Confidences Move Downward Rather Than Upward; In Our Secret Affairs, We Employ Our Inferiors Much More Than Our Bettors.

For Certain People, Misfortune Is A Beacon That Lights Up The Dark And Baser Sides Of Social Life.

To Kill A Relative Of Whom You Are Tired Is Something. But To Inherit His Property Afterwards, That Is Genuine Pleasure.