C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
J. Petit-Senn
A pedant holds more to instruct us with what he knows, than of what we are ignorant.
Adversity, which makes us indulgent to others, renders them severe towards us.
Age whitens hairs, but not sin.
An angry woman is vindictive beyond measure, and hesitates at nothing in her bitterness.
Another life, if it were not better than this, would be less a promise than a threat.
Beauty and ugliness disappear equally under the wrinkles of age; one is lost in them; the other hidden.
Conscience serves us especially to judge of the actions of others.
Do not crowd the understanding; it can comprehend so much and no more. A pint pot will not contain the measure of a quart.
Do you know a young and beautiful woman who is not ready to flirt—just a little?
Doubt springs from the mind; faith is the daughter of the soul.
Envy, like flame, blackens that which is above it, and which it cannot reach.
Every generous illusion of youth leaves a wrinkle as it departs. Experience is the successive disenchanting of the things of life; it is reason enriched with the heart’s spoils.
Experience unveils too late the snares laid for youth; it is the white frost which discovers the spider’s web when the flies are no longer there to be caught.
Genius, like a torch, shines less in the broad daylight of the present than in the night of the past.
Happiness is where we find it, but very rarely where we seek it.
How many wells of science there are in whose depths there is nothing but clear water!
In a better world we will find our young years and our old friends.
In giving alms, let us rather look at the needs of the poor than his claim to your charity.
In love we are not only liable to betray ourselves, but also the secrets of others.
It is easy to be virtuous in prospective.
It is more pitiable once to have been rich than not to be rich now.
It is only before those who are glad to hear it, and anxious to spread it, that we find it easy to speak ill of others.
It requires less character to discover the faults of others than to tolerate them.
Let us believe neither half of the good people tell us of ourselves, nor half the evil they say of others.
Let us respect gray hairs, but, above all, our own.
Loud indignation against vice often stands for virtue with bigots.
Many fortunes, like rivers, have a pure source, but grow muddy as they grow large.
Money dishonestly acquired is never worth its cost, while a good conscience never costs as much as it is worth.
No woman dares express all she thinks.
None despise fame more heartily than those who have no possible claim to it.
Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance.
Of all trifles, titles are the lightest.
Our interests are grains of opium to our consciences, but they only put it to sleep for a terrible awakening.
Our virtues live upon our incomes; our vices consume our capital.
People who declare that they belong to no party certainly do not belong to ours.
Perfect servants would be the worst of all for certain masters, whose happiness consists in finding fault with them.
Pleasure and satiety live next door to each other.
Pleasure limps for him who enjoys it alone.
Promises retain men better than services; for hope is to them a chain, and gratitude a thread.
Public opinion is a courtesan, whom we seek to please without respecting.
Rage is a short-lived fury.
Religion is the hospital of the souls that the world has wounded.
Some delicate matters must be treated like pins, because if they are not seized by the right end, we get pricked.
That experience which does not make us better makes us worse.
That prudery which survives youth and beauty resembles a scarecrow left in the fields after harvest.
The grave is a crucible where memory is purified; we only remember a dead friend by those qualities which make him regretted.
The great chastisement of a knave is not to be known, but to know himself.
The happiness of the tender heart is increased by what it can take away from the wretchedness of others.
The hatred we bear our enemies injures their happiness less than our own.
The less power a man has, the more he likes to use it.
The most exacting jailer is our own conscience.
The politics of courtiers resemble their shadows; they cringe and turn with the sun of the day.
The true worth of a soul is revealed as much by the motive it attributes to the actions of others as by its own deeds.
The virtuous woman flees from danger; she trusts more to her prudence in shunning it than in her strength to overcome it.
The weak-minded man is the slave of his vices and the dupe of his virtues.
The wisest man may always learn something from the humblest peasant.
The wonderful fortune of some writers deludes and leads to misery a great number of young people. It cannot be too often repeated that it is dangerous to enter upon a career of letters without some other means of living. An illustrious author has said in these times, “Literature must not be leant on as upon a crutch; it is little more than a stick.”
There are philanthropists who, incapable of managing their own little affairs, take upon themselves those of the whole world; but as their creditors always outnumber their disciples, they owe humanity more than she will ever owe them.
There are some errors so sweet that we repent them only to bring them to memory.
There are wounds of self-love which one does not confess to one’s dearest friends.
There is a proverb in the South that a woman laughs when she can, and weeps when she pleases.
There is certainly no beauty on earth which exceeds the natural loveliness of woman.
There is no beauty on earth which exceeds the natural loveliness of woman.
Those virtues which cost us dear prove that we love God; those which are easy to us prove that He loves us.
To endeavor to move by the same discourse hearers who differ in age, sex, position and education, is to attempt to open all locks with the same key.
To protect ourselves against the storms of passion, marriage with a good woman is a harbor in the tempest; but with a bad woman it is a tempest in the harbor.
True courage is like a kite: a contrary wind raises it higher.
We are told to walk noiselessly through the world, that we may waken neither hatred nor envy; but, alas! What can we do when they never sleep!
We find ourselves less witty in remembering what we have said than in dreaming of what we would have said.
We forget the origin of a parvenu if he remembers it; we remember it if he forgets it.
We tire of those pleasures we take, but never of those we give.
What we gain by experience is not worth that we lose in illusion.
Without big words, how could many people say small things?
Women always find their bitterest foes among their own sex.