The brain is a tool that gets rusty without constant, albeit moderate, exercise.

When they are among us cats are angels

My strength has not equaled my mad ambition. I have remained obscure; I have done worse -- I have touched success, and allowed it to escape me.

It is high time that we had lights that are not incendiary torches.

One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.

If they are ignorant, they are despised, if learned, mocked. In love they are reduced to the status of courtesans. As wives they are treated more as servants than as companions. Men do not love them: they make use of them, they exploit them, and expect, in that way, to make them subject to the law of fidelity.

The capacity for passion is both cruel and divine.