It is only before those who are glad to hear it, and anxious to spread it, that we find it easy to speak ill of others.
People who declare that they belong to no party certainly do not belong to ours.
How many wells of science there are in whose depths there is nothing but clear water!
The wonderful fortune of some writers deludes and leads to misery a great number of young people.
Adversity, which makes us indulgent to others, renders them severe towards us.
The grave is a crucible where memory is purified; we only remember a dead friend by those qualities which make him regretted.
Do not crowd the understanding; it can comprehend so much and no more. A pint pot will not contain the measure of a quart.
It is easy to be virtuous in prospective.
That experience which does not make us better makes us worse.
The wonderful fortune of some writers deludes and leads to misery a great number of young people. It cannot be too often repeated that it is dangerous to enter upon a career of letters without some other means of living. An illustrious author has said in these times, "Literature must not be leant on as upon a crutch; it is little more than a stick.
Without big words, how could many people say small things?
Conscience serves us especially to judge of the actions of others.
We find ourselves less witty in remembering what we have said than in dreaming of what we would have said.
Another life, if it were not better than this, would be less a promise than a threat.
We are told to walk noiselessly through the world, that we may waken neither hatred, nor envy; but, alas! what can we do when they never sleep!
Our interests are grains of opium to our consciences, but they only put it to sleep for a terrible awakening.
Religion is the hospital of the souls that the world has wounded.
Genius, like a torch, shines less in the broad daylight of the present than in the night of the past.
Pleasure and satiety live next door to each other.
Let us respect gray Lairs, but, above all, our own.
Perfect servants would be the worst of all for certain masters, whose happiness consists in finding fault with them.
The politics of courtiers resemble their shadows; they cringe and turn with the sun of the day.
Of all trifles, titles are the lightest.
In love we are not only liable to betray ourselves, but also the secrets of others.
There are wounds of self-love which one does not confess to one's dearest friends.
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