The Violence Done Us By Others Is

Unfaithfulness Ought To Extinguish Love, And We Should Not Be Jealous When There Is Reason To Be. Only Those Who Give No Grounds For Jealousy Are Worthy Of It.

Honest People Will Respect Us For Our Merit: The Public, For Our Luck.

Neither Love Nor Fire Can Subsist Without Perpetual Motion; Both Cease To Live So Soon As They Cease To Hope, Or To Fear.

All The Passions Are Nothing Else Than Different Degrees Of Heat And Cold Of The Blood.

We Get So Much In The Habit Of Wearing Disguises Before Others That We Finally Appear Disguised Before Ourselves.