Pity is the most agreeable feeling among those who have little pride and no prospects of great conquests.

Nothing has been purchased more dearly than the little bit of reason and sense of freedom which now constitutes our pride.

To show pity is felt as a sign of contempt because one has clearly ceased to be an object of fear as soon as one is pitied.

Our vanity is most difficult to wound just when our pride has been wounded.

Vanity is the polite mask of pride.

"I have done that," says my memory. "I cannot have done that" -- says my pride, and remains adamant. At last -- memory yields.