We Always Like Those Who Admire Us.

Hope, Deceiving As It Is, Serves At Least To Lead Us To The End Of Our Lives By An Agreeable Route.

Constancy In Love Is A Perpetual Inconstancy Which Fixes Our Hearts Successively To All The Qualities Of The Person Loved--sometimes Admiring One And Sometimes Another Above All The Rest--so That This Constancy Roves As Far As It Can, And Is No Better Than Inconstancy, Confined Within The Compass Of One Person.

Most Of Our Faults Are More Pardonable Than The Means We Use To Conceal Them.

There Is A Sort Of Love Whose Very Excessiveness Prevents The Lover's Being Jealous.

If We Have Not Peace Within Ourselves, It Is In Vain To Seek It From Outward Sources.