A husband and wife who are in the habit of occupying separate rooms are either beings apart, or they have found happiness. Either they hate or they adore each other.

Materialism and spirituality are two pretty racquets with which charlatans in cap and gown make the same ball fly.

Love, according to our contemporary poets, is a privilege which two beings confer upon one another, whereby they may mutually cause one another much sorrow over absolutely nothing.

The world will avenge itself upon all happiness in which it has no share.

No man should marry until he has studied anatomy and dissected at least one woman.

Virginity, like all monstrosities, possesses special riches and its own absorbing grandeur. Among the chaste, life forces are economized and thus gain in resistance and durability.

In France we can cauterize wounds but we do not yet know any remedy for the injuries inflicted by a bon mot.