Fear of losing a moment from business
     Finishes his sin thoroughly before he begins to repent
     Fortune sells what we believe she gives
     Her kindness, which never sleeps
     Houses are vessels which take mere passengers
     Hubbub of questions which waited for no reply
     I make it a rule never to have any hope
     Ignorant of what there is to wish for
     Looks on an accomplished duty neither as a merit nor a grievance
     Make himself a name:  he becomes public property
     Moderation is the great social virtue
     More stir than work
     My patronage has become her property
     No one is so unhappy as to have nothing to give
     Not desirous to teach goodness
     Nothing is dishonorable which is useful
     Our tempers are like an opera-glass
     Poverty, you see, is a famous schoolmistress
     Power of necessity
     Prisoners of work
     Progress can never be forced on without danger
     Question is not to discover what will suit us
     Richer than France herself, for I have no deficit in my budget
     Ruining myself, but we must all have our Carnival
     Satisfy our wants, if we know how to set bounds to them
     Sensible man, who has observed much and speaks little
     So much confidence at first, so much doubt at las
     Sullen tempers are excited by the patience of their victims
     The happiness of the wise man costs but little
     The man in power gives up his peace
     Two thirds of human existence are wasted in hesitation
     Virtue made friends, but she did not take pupils
     We do not understand that others may live on their own account
     We are not bound to live, while we are bound to do our duty
     What have you done with the days God granted you
     What a small dwelling joy can live
     You may know the game by the lair