Death Happens But Once, Yet We Feel

A Good Author, And One Who Writes Carefully, Often Discovers That The Expression Of Which He Has Been In Search Without Being Able To Discover It, And Which He Has At Last Found, Is That Which Was The Most Simple, The Most Natural, And Which Seems As If It Ought To Have Presented Itself At Once, Without Effort, To The Mind.

A Lovely Countenance Is The Fairest Of All Sights, And The Sweetest Harmony Is The Sound Of The Voice Of Her Whom We Love.

The Flatterer Does Not Think Highly Enough Of Himself Or Of Others.

In Friendship We Only See Those Faults Which May Be Prejudicial To Our Friends. In Love We See No Faults But Those By Which We Suffer Ourselves.

One Seeks To Make The Loved One Entirely Happy, Or, If That Cannot Be, Entirely Wretched.