The death of a man's wife is like cutting down an ancient oak that has long shaded the family mansion. Henceforth the glare of the world, with its cares and vicissitudes falls upon the old widower's heart, and there is nothing to break their force, or shield him from the full weight of misfortune. It is as if his right hand were withered; as if one wing of his angel was broken, and every movement that he made brought him to the ground.

History teaches everything, even the future.

The attractiveness that exists to man in the very helplessness of woman is scarcely realized.

Poetry has been the guardian angel of humanity in all ages.

Unanimity is the mistress of strength.

Fiction is the microscope of truth.

Treason, which begins by being cautious, ends by betraying itself.