It Is As Easy To Deceive One's

Happiness Does Not Consist In Things Themselves But In The Relish We Have Of Them; And A Man Has Attained It When He Enjoys What He Loves And Desires Himself, And Not What Other People Think Lovely And Desirable.

Youth Is A Continual Intoxication; It Is The Fever Of Reason.

We Only Acknowledge Small Faults In Order To Make It Appear That We Are Free From Great Ones.

We Pardon To The Extent That We Love.

Our Own Distrust Gives A Fair Pretence For The Knavery Of Other People.