Hatred, in the course of time, kills the unhappy wretch who delights in nursing it in his bosom.

Man is free; but not unless he believes he is[.]

A man who makes known his love by words is a fool.

Love is a great poet, its resources are inexhaustible, but if the end it has in view is not obtained, it feels weary and remains silent.

Give me a man who is man enough to give himself just to the woman who is worth him. If that woman were me,I would love him alone and forever

It is only necessary to have courage, for strength without self-confidence is useless.

The reader of these Memoirs will discover that I never had any fixed aim before my eyes, and that my system, if it can be called a system, has been to glide away unconcernedly on the stream of life, trusting to the wind wherever it led.