The man whom fate employs to awaken love in the heart of a young girl is often unaware of his work and therefore leaves it uncompleted.
The greatest tyranny is to love I where we are not loved again.
Little minds find satisfaction for their feelings, good or bad, in little things.
Imagination helps the realism of every detail, and only sees the beauties of the work.
The wounds of self-love turn incurable when the oxide of self-love gets into them.
Society proceeds like the ocean. After a disaster, it resume its wonted level and rhythms; its devouring interests efface all traces of damage.