A Heap Of Epithets Is Poor Praise:

There Are Certain People Who So Ardently And Passionately Desire A Thing, That From Dread Of Losing It They Leave Nothing Undone To Make Them Lose It.

A Well-born Man Is Fortunate, But So Is The Man About Whom People No Longer Ask, 'is He Well-born?'

It Is Motive Alone That Gives Real Value To The Actions Of Men, And Disinterestedness Puts The Cap To It.

The Beginning And The End Of Love Are Both Marked By Embarrassment When The Two Find Themselves Alone. [fr., Le Commencement Et Le Declin De L'amour Se Font Sentir Par L'embarras Ou L'on Est De Se Trouver Seuls.]

It Is A Great Misfortune Not To Possess Sufficient Wit To Speak Well, Nor Sufficient Judgment To Keep Silent.