States, Like Men, Have Their Growth, Their

Those Who Are Quite Satisfied Sit Still And Do Nothing; Those Who Are Not Quite Satisfied Are The Sole Benefactors Of The World.

Truth, Like The Juice Of The Poppy, In Small Quantities, Calms Men; In Larger, Heats And Irritates Them, And Is Attended By Fatal Consequences In Excess.

Whatever Is Worthy To Be Loved For Anything Is Worthy Of Preservation. A Wise And Dispassionate Legislator, If Any Such Should Ever Arise Among Men, Will Not Condemn To Death Him Who Has Done Or Is Likely To Do More Service Than Injury To Society. Blocks And Gibbets Are The Nearest Objects With Legislators, And Their Business Is Never With Hopes Or With Virtues.

I Hate False Words, And Seek With Care, Difficulty, And Moroseness, Those That Fit The Thing.

Virtue Is Presupposed In Friendship.