(...) the tree forsakes not the flower: the flower falls from the tree.

How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure!

Your life story is a novel; and people, though they love novels wound between two yellow paper covers, are oddly suspicious of those which come to them in living vellum.

Everyone knows that drunkards and lovers have a protecting diety.

One always hurries towards happiness, Monsieur Danglars, because when one has suffered much, one is at pains to believe in it.

Business? It's quite simple; it's other people's money.

We are never quits with those who oblige us," was Dantes' reply; "for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude.