“Truly generous men are always ready to become sympathetic when their enemy’s misfortune surpasses the limits of their hatred.”

Oh! The good times when we were so unhappy.

Moral wounds have this peculiarity – they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.

The wretched and miserable should turn to their Saviour first, yet they do not hope in Him until all other hope is exhausted.

I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper than of a sword or pistol.

You are very amiable, no doubt, but you would be charming if you would only depart.

Be happy, noble heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds.

Philosophy cannot be taught; it is the application of the sciences to truth.

Everyone knows that drunkards and lovers have a protecting diety.

Your bitter memories still have time to turn into sweet ones.

So heavy is the chain of wedlock that it needs two to carry it, and sometimes three.

The difference between treason and patriotism is only a matter of dates.

Pure love and suspicion cannot dwell together: at the door where the latter enters, the former makes its exit.

He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness.

When a man resolves to avenge himself, he should first of all tear out the heart from his breast.

Happiness is egotistical.

Learning does not make one learned: there are those who have knowledge and those who have understanding. The first requires memory and the second philosophy.

Fortune cannot aid those who do nothing.

Virtue has her heroes too As well as Fame and Fortune.

We’re extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in. One would have to live a long, long time, unquestionably longer than the world itself.

Fortune never helps the fainthearted.

Fortune is not on the side of the faint-hearted.

Though I may deny poets their monopoly on inspiration, I still place them in a select group of Fortune’s darlings.

What fate can be worse than to know we have no one but ourselves to blame for our misfortunes!

I am the child of Fortune, the giver of good, and I shall not be shamed. She is my mother; my sisters are the Seasons; my rising and my falling match with theirs. Born thus, I ask to be no other man than that I am.