If love is a play, this play, as old as the world, fiasco or not, it is, all in all, the least bad thing that has so far been found. The roles are trite, I admit, but if the play had no value the whole universe wouldn’t know it by heart

Know that there is often hidden in us a dormant poet, always young and alive.

There are temptations more attractive than angels. Liberty, Patriotism, the good of humanity – words like that are the silver scales of the Tempter’s flaming wings

There is no worse sorrow than remembering happiness in the day of sorrow.

Take time as it comes, the wind as it blows, woman as she is.

Memory is what makes us young or old.

The return makes one love the farewell.