It Is More Difficult For

The Desire Of Talking Of Ourselves, And Showing Those Faults We Do Not Mind Having Seen, Makes Up A Good Part Of Our Sincerity.

If There Be A Love Pure And Free From The Admixture Of Our Other Passions, It Is That Which Lies Hidden In The Bottom Of Our Heart, And Which We Know Not Ourselves.

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.

Happiness Does Not Consist In Things Themselves But In The Relish We Have Of Them; And A Man Has Attained It When He Enjoys What He Loves And Desires Himself, And Not What Other People Think Lovely And Desirable.

Ordinary Men Commonly Condemn What Is Beyond Them.