As Love Increases, Prudence Diminishes.

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

There Is A Kind Of Elevation Which Does Not Depend On Fortune; It Is A Certain Air Which Distinguishes Us, And Seems To Destine Us For Great Things; It Is A Price Which We Imperceptibly Set Upon Ourselves.

Funeral Pomp Is More For The Vanity Of The Living Than For The Honor Of The Dead.

Numberless Arts Appear Foolish Whose Secret Motives Are Most Wise And Weighty.

Love Often Leads On To Ambition, But Seldom Does One Return From Ambition To Love.