His fair landlady was in despair. She would most willingly have made M. d'Artagnan her husband--such a handsome man, and such a fierce mustache!

that Englishman who came to challenge me three or four months ago, and whom I killed to stop him bothering me

Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance.

Does the open wound in another's breast soften the pain of the gaping wound in our own? Or does the blood which is welling from another man's side staunch that which is pouring from our own? Does the general anguish of our fellow creatures lessen our own private and particular anguish? No, no, each suffers on his own account, each struggles with his own grief, each sheds his own tears.

I am a count, not a saint.

A weakened mind always sees everything through a black veil. The soul makes its own horizons; your soul is dark, which is why you see such a cloudy sky.

When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.