There Is Only One Kind Of Love,

In Infants, Levity Is A Prettiness; In Men A Shameful Defect; But In Old Age, A Monstrous Folly.

It Seems That Nature, Which Has So Wisely Disposed Our Bodily Organs With A View To Our Happiness, Has Also Bestowed On Us Pride, To Spare Us The Pain Of Being Aware Of Our Imperfections.

We Arrive At The Various Stages Of Life Quite As Novices.

Some Follies Are Caught, Like Contagious Diseases.

We Easily Forgive Our Friends Those Faults That Do No Affect Us Ourselves.