Every woman is the gift of a world to me.

Round my cradle shimmered the last moonbeams of the eighteenth century and the first morning rays of the nineteenth.

Every period of time is a sphinx that throws itself into the abyss as soon as its riddle has been solved.

Whether a revolution succeeds or fails people of great hearts will always be sacrificed to it.

There is only one writer in whom I find something that reminds me of the directness of style which is found in the Bible. It is Shakespeare.

It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man.

It is only kindred griefs that draw forth our tears, and each weeps really for himself.