Neither The Passions Not Justice Nor Politics

A Letter Is A Soul, So Faithful An Echo Of The Speaking Voice That To The Sensitive It Is Among The Richest Treasures Of Love.

Love Or Hatred Must Constantly Increase Between Two Persons Who Are Always Together; Every Moment Fresh Reasons Are Found For Loving Or Hating Better.

Love Endows Us With A Sort Of Personal Religion; We Respect Another Live Within Ourselves.

Rich Men Are Resolved To Be Astonished At Nothing. When They See A Masterpiece, They Must Needs At One Glance Recognize Some Flaw To Dispense Them From Admiration, A Vulgar Emotion.

Where Poverty Ceases, Avarice Begins.