I am a count, not a saint.

Pure love and suspicion cannot dwell together: at the door where the latter enters, the former makes its exit.

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.

There are people who are willing to suffer and swallow their tears at leisure, and God will no doubt reward them in heaven for their resignation; but those who have the will to struggle strike back at fate in retaliation for the blows they receive.

I prefer the wicked rather than the foolish. The wicked sometimes rest.

One's work may be finished someday, but one's education never.

For all evils there are two remedies - time and silence.