 He that knew all that learning ever writ, Knew only this - that he knew nothing yet. |
| Each moment of a happy lover's hour is worth an age of dull and common life. |
| One hour of right-down love is worth an age of dully living on. |
| Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret. |
| There is no sinner like a young saint. |
| Faith, sir, we are here today, and gone tomorrow. |
| Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude. |
| That perfect tranquillity of life, which is nowhere to be found but in retreat, a faithful friend and a good library. |
| Variety is the soul of pleasure. |
| Money speaks sense in a language all nations understand. |
