The more you lose the right to be jealous, the more so you become!

Butterflies are but flowers that blew away one sunny day when Nature was feeling at her most inventive and fertile.

Anything we destroy in ourselves we destroy in others. Our falls lower others and throw them down; we owe it to our fellows to keep upright, in order that they too may keep their feet.

Oblivion is the flower that grows best on graves.

The masses are still ungrateful or ignorant. They prefer murder, poisonings, and crimes generally to a literature possessed of style and feeling.

Simplicity is the most difficult thing to secure in this world; it is the last limit of experience and the last effort of genius.

One wastes so much time, one is so prodigal of life, at twenty! Our days of winter count for double. That is the compensation of the old.