In the medical profession a horse and carriage are more necessary than any scientific knowledge.

There are houses in certain provincial towns whose aspect inspires melancholy, akin to that called forth by sombre cloisters, dreary moorlands, or the desolation of ruins. Within these houses there is, perhaps, the silence of the cloister, the barrenness of moors, the skeleton of ruins; life and movement are so stagnant there that a stranger might think them uninhabited, were it not that he encounters suddenly the pale, cold glance of a motionless person, whose half-monastic face peers beyond the window-casing at the sound of an unaccustomed step.

A husband who submits to his wife's yoke is justly held an object of ridicule. A woman's influence ought to be entirely concealed.

At fifteen, beauty and talent do not exist; there can only be promise of the coming woman.

Conscience is a cudgel which all men pick up in order to thwack their neighbors instead of applying it to their own shoulders.

A naked woman is less dangerous than one who spreads her skirt skillfully to cover and exhibit everything at once.

The life of a man who deliberately runs through his fortune often becomes a business speculation; his friends, his pleasures, patrons, and acquaintances are his capital.