Death, Like The Sun, Cannot Be Looked

The Reason We Do Not Let Our Friends See The Very Bottom Of Our Hearts Is Not So Much Distrust Of Them As Distrust Of Ourselves.

None But The Contemptible Are Apprehensive Of Contempt.

Jealousy Is Bred In Doubts. When Those Doubts Change Into Certainties, Then The Passion Either Ceases Or Turns Absolute Madness.

Why Can We Remember The Tiniest Detail That Has Happened To Us, And Not Remember How Many Times We Have Told It To The Same Person.

A Small Degree Of Wit, Accompanied By Good Sense, Is Less Tiresome In The Long Run Than A Great Amount Of Wit Without It.