I am ashamed of confessing that I have nothing to confess.
People who live together naturally catch the looks and air of one another and without having one feature alike, they contract a something in the whole countenance which strikes one as a resemblance.
To whom, then, must I dedicate my wonderful, surprising and interesting adventures? to whom dare I reveal my private opinion of my nearest relations? the secret thoughts of my dearest friends? my own hopes, fears, reflections and dislikes? Nobody!
Insensibility, of all kinds, and on all occasions, most moves my imperial displeasure.
The mind is but too naturally prone to pleasure, but too easily yielded to dissipation.
To despise riches, may, indeed, be philosophic, but to dispense them worthily, must surely be more beneficial to mankind.
There is something in age that ever, even in its own despite, must be venerable, must create respect and to have it ill treated, is to me worse, more cruel and wicked than anything on earth.
