The intellect seeks, the heart finds.
One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.
It is always the best friends who are neglected and ignored.
Heavens! whatever possesses us, here below, that we mutually torment ourselves, sourly reproach our mutual faults, and mercilessly condemn all that is not cut according to our pattern?
No human creature can give orders to love.
Life is a succession of afflictions for the heart.