They That Have Lived A Single Day

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.]

Whatever Is Certain In Death Is Slightly Alleviated By What Is Not So Infallible; The Time When It Shall Happen Is Undefined, But It Is More Or Less Connected With The Infinite, And What We Call Eternity.

The Very Essence Of Politeness Seems To Be To Take Care That By Our Words And Actions We Make Other People Pleased With Us As Well As With Themselves.

The Most Exquisite Pleasure Is Giving Pleasure To Others.

Life Is Short And Tedious, And Is Wholly Spent In Wishing; We Trust To Find Rest And Enjoyment At Some Future Time, Often At An Age When Our Best Blessings, Youth And Health, Have Already Left Us. When At Last I That Time Has Arrived, It Surprises Us In The Midst Of Fresh Desires; We Have Got No Farther When We Are Attacked By A Fever Which Kills Us; If We Had Been Cured, It Would Only Have Been To Give Us More Time For Other Desires.