That perfect tranquillity of life, which is nowhere to be found but in retreat, a faithful friend and a good library.
Each moment of a happy lover's hour is worth an age of dull and common life.
Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret.
There is no sinner like a young saint.
Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.