“Ladies of Fashion starve their happiness to feed their vanity, and their love to feed their pride.”
Tip: press → for another quote, C to copy, S to share.
Of present fame think little, and of future less the praises that we receive after we are buried, like the flowers that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing to the dead.
If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, fill her above the brim with love of herself all that runs over will be yours.
The society of dead authors has this advantage over that of the living: they never flatter us to our faces, nor slander us behind our backs, nor intrude upon our privacy, nor quit their shelves until we take them down.
Death is the liberator of him whom freedom cannot release, the physician of him whom medicine cannot cure, and the comforter of him whom time cannot console.
