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Francois de La Rochefoucauld Quotes

Page 10 of 13
Francois de La Rochefoucauld
September 15, 1613 - March 17, 1680
Nationality: French
Category: Writer
Subcategory: French Writer

How is it that we remember the least triviality that happens to us, and yet not remember how often we have recounted it to the same person?


Why can we remember the tiniest detail that has happened to us, and not remember how many times we have told it to the same person.


You can find women who have never had an affair, but it is hard to find a woman who has had just one.


They that apply themselves to trifling matters commonly become incapable of great ones.


Jealousy is bred in doubts. When those doubts change into certainties, then the passion either ceases or turns absolute madness.


We get so much in the habit of wearing disguises before others that we finally appear disguised before ourselves.


The heart is forever making the head its fool.


There are a great many men valued in society who have nothing to recommend them but serviceable vices.


Our virtues are often, in reality, no better than vices disguised.


Old men are fond of giving good advice to console themselves for their inability to give bad examples.


It is a great act of cleverness to be able to conceal one's being clever.


Nature seems at each man's birth to have marked out the bounds of his virtues and vices, and to have determined how good or how wicked that man shall be capable of being.


We seldom praise anyone in good earnest, except such as admire us.


Many men are contemptuous of riches; few can give them away.


Innocence does not find near so much protection as guilt.


In friendship as well as love, ignorance very often contributes more to our happiness than knowledge.


What is called generosity is usually only the vanity of giving; we enjoy the vanity more than the thing given.


Every one speaks well of his own heart, but no one dares speak well of his own mind.


There is only one kind of love, but there are a thousand imitations.


The defects of the mind, like those of the face, grow worse with age.


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