Chance Corrects Us Of Many Faults That

We May Give Advice, But Not The Sense To Use It.

The Hate Of Favourites Is Only A Love Of Favour. The Envy Of Not Possessing It, Consoles And Softens Its Regrets By The Contempt It Evinces For Those Who Possess It, And We Refuse Them Our Homage, Not Being Able To Detract From Them What Attracts That Of The Rest Of The World.

True Friendship Destroys Envy, And True Love Destroys Coquetterie.

No Man Is Clever Enough To Know All The Evil He Does.

We Like To Read Others But We Do Not Like To Be Read.