Time Makes Friendship Stronger, But Love Weaker.

There Are Some Souls So Base And Filthy That They Love Gain And Interest As Noble Souls Love Fame And Virtue, Knowing One Pleasure Only, That Of Making Money Or Of Not Losing It; Anxious And Avid For Their Ten Per Cent; Entirely Preoccupied With What Is Owed Them; Forever Concerned About The Depreciation Or Discredit Of Money; Buried, And As It Were Engulfed, Amid Contracts, Title-deeds And Parchments. Such People Are Neither Parents, Friends, Citizens Or Christians, Nor, Perhaps, Even Men; They Merely Have Money.

False Glory Is The Rock Of Vanity; It Seduces Men To Affect Esteem By Things Which They Indeed Possess, But Which Are Frivolous, And Which For A Man To Value Himself On Would Be A Scandalous Error.

A Man May Have Intelligence Enough To Excel In A Particular Thing And Lecture On It, And Yet Not Have Sense Enough To Know He Ought To Be Silent On Some Other Subject Of Which He Has But A Slight Knowledge; If Such An Illustrious Man Ventures Beyond The Bounds Of His Capacity, He Loses His Way And Talks Like A Fool.

Intelligence Is To Genius As The Whole Is In Proportion To Its Part. [fr., Entre Esprit Et Talent Il Y A La Proportion Du Tout A Sa Partie.]

If Our Life Is Unhappy It Is Painful To Bear; If It Is Happy It Is Horrible To Lose, So The One Is Pretty Equal To The Other.