“The intellect is always fooled by the heart.”

Heat of blood makes young people change their inclinations often, and habit makes old ones keep to theirs a great while.

There are few virtuous women who are not bored with their trade.

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

Hope, deceiving as it is, serves at least to lead us to the end of our lives by an agreeable route.

What makes the pain we feel from shame and jealousy so cutting is that vanity can give us no assistance in bearing them.

It is almost always a fault of one who loves not to realize when he ceases to be loved.

Everyone complains of his memory, and nobody complains of his judgment.

It is easier to know men in general, than men in particular.

We seldom find people ungrateful so long as it is thought we can serve them.

No man is clever enough to know all the evil he does.

Quarrels would not last long if the fault was only on one side.

The principal point of cleverness is to know how to value things just as they deserve.

We should often feel ashamed of our best actions if the world could see all the motives which produced them.

Some people displease with merit, and others’ very faults and defects are pleasing.

No man deserves to be praised for his goodness, who has it not in his power to be wicked. Goodness without that power is generally nothing more than sloth, or an impotence of will.

The reason why so few people are agreeable in conversation is that each is thinking more about what he intends to say than others are saying.

I like attractive people who aren’t so terribly aware that they are attractive… people who aren’t afraid to roll on the floor and make fools out of themselves.

Call me a joker, call me a fool, right at this moment I’m totally cool.

Wise men say, only fools rush in. Wise men are so slow.

The greatest ability is dependability.

There’s nineteen men livin’ in my neighborhood, Eighteen of them are fools and the one ain’t no doggone good.

But the frat boys were all frivolous and idiotic in our minds now, a bunch of conformist fools going through the motions of hip.

There is little anyone can do with fanatics. Reasoning with them is a fool’s errand. Avoiding them is mandatory.

A story should, to please, at least seem true, Be apropos, well told, concise, and new: And whenso’er it deviates from these rules, The wise will sleep, and leave applause to fools.