From that moment our love became sad, and sadness is a disease which gives the death-blow to affection.

There is no such thing as destiny. We ourselves shape our lives.

Thence, I suppose, my natural disposition to make fresh acquaintances, and to break with them so readily, although always for a good reason, and never through mere fickleness.

Worthy or not, my life is my subject, and my subject is my life.

The mind of a human being is formed only of comparisons made in order to examine analogies, and therefore cannot precede the existence of memory.

I have met with some of them - very honest fellows, who, with all their stupidity, had a kind of intelligence and an upright good sense, which cannot be the characteristics of fools.

The story she had told me was possible, but it was not believable.