He who best knows the world will love it least.

The country is provincial; it becomes ridiculous when it tries to ape Paris.

A monster which devours everything - that is familiarity.

The human heart may find here and there a resting-place short of the highest height of affection, but we seldom stop in the steep, downward slope of hatred.

Love is a religion, and its rituals cost more than those of other religions. It goes by quickly and, like a street urchin, it likes to mark its passage by a trail of devastation.

Liberty begets anarchy, anarchy leads to despotism, and despotism brings about liberty once again. Millions of human beings have perished without being able to make any of these systems triumph.

Passion is universal humanity. Without it religion, history, romance and art would be useless.