We cannot confront solitude without moral resources.

A great love is a credit opened in favor of a power so consuming that the moment of bankruptcy must inevitably occur.

Old maids, having never bent their temper or their lives to other lives and other tempers, as woman's destiny requires, have for the most part a mania for making everything about them bend to them.

Society bristles with enigmas which look hard to solve. It is a perfect maze of intrigue.

Your women of fashion ceases to be a woman. She is neither mother, nor wife, nor lover. She is, medically speaking, sex on the brain.

Passions are no more forgiving than human laws and they reason more justly. Are they not based on a conscience of their own, infallible as an instinct?

If youth were not ignorant and timid, civilization would be impossible.