The Pleasure Of Love Is In Loving;

When Our Vices Leave Us, We Like To Imagine It Is We Who Are Leaving Them.

Youth Changes Its Tastes By The Warmth Of Its Blood; Age Retains Its Tastes By Habit.

We Feel Good And Ill Only In Proportion To Our Self-love.

Perseverance Is Neither Praiseworthy Nor Blameworthy; For It Seems To Be Only The Enduring Of Certain Inclinations And Opinions Which Men Neither Give Themselves Nor Take Away From Themselves.

Virtue Is To The Soul What Health Is Tot He Body.