Women are happy to possess a man whom all women covet.
Hope is a memory that desires, the memory is a memory that has enjoyed.
No man has ever yet discovered the way to give friendly advice to any woman, not even to his own wife.
Does not any limit imposed upon one inspire a desire to go beyond it? Does not our keenest suffering arise when our free will is crossed?
As a rule, only the poor are generous.
Journalism is a giant catapult set in motion by pigmy hatreds.