How we keep these dead souls in our hearts. Each one of us carries within himself his necropolis.

What better occupation, really, than to spend the evening at the fireside with a book, with the wind beating on the windows and the lamp burning bright...Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings?

Exuberance is better than taste.

To be stupid, selfish, and have good health are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost.

I don't believe that happiness is possible, but I think tranquility is.

In her enthusiasms she had always looked for something tangible: she had always loved church for its flowers, music for its romantic words, literature for its power to stir the passions and she rebelled before the mysteries of faith just as she grew ever more restive under discipline, which was antipathetic to her nature.

The heart, like the stomach, wants a varied diet.