Wit Is The God Of Moments, But

How Many Men Are Like Trees, Already Strong And Full Grown, Which Are Transplanted Into Some Gardens, To The Astonishment Of Those People Who Behold Them In These Fine Spots, Where They Never Saw Them Grow, And Who Neither Know Their Beginning Nor Their Progress!

If You Wish To Be Held In Esteem, You Must Ssociate Only With Those Who Estimable.

For A Woman To Be At Once A Coquette And A Bigot Is More Than The Humblest Of Husbands Can Bear; She Should Mercifully Choose Between The Two.

To Be Among People One Loves, That's Sufficient; To Dream, To Speak To Them, To Be Silent Among Them, To Think Of Indifferent Things; But Among Them, Everything Is Equal.

The Great Slight The Men Of Wit, Who Have Nothing But Wit; The Men Of Wit Despise The Great, Who Have Nothing But Greatness; The Good Man Pities Them Both, If With Greatness Or Wit They Have Not Virtue.