A husband can commit no greater blunder than to discuss his wife, if she is virtuous, with his mistress; unless it be to mention his mistress, if she is beautiful, to his wife.

Clothes are like a gloss that sets off everything; dresser were invented more to enhance physical advantages than to veil physical defects.

Suicide, moreover, was at the time in vogue in Paris: what more suitable key to the mystery of life for a skeptical society?

Love or hatred must constantly increase between two persons who are always together; every moment fresh reasons are found for loving or hating better.

At thirty years a woman asks her lover to give her back the esteem she has forfeited for his sake; she lives only for him, her thoughts are full of his future, he must have a great career, she bids him make it glorious; she can obey, entreat, command, humble herself, or rise in pride; times without number she brings comfort when a young girl can only make moan.

Nobody loves a woman because she is handsome or ugly, stupid or intelligent. We love because we love.

To be happy, a man must love his wife as she chooses to be loved.