Happiness lends poetic charms to woman, and dress adorns her like a delicate tinge of rouge.

Religious ecstasy is a madness of thought freed of its bodily bonds, whereas in the ecstasy of love, the forces of twin natures unite, blend and embrace one another.

True love rules especially through memory.

Remorse is impotent; it will repeat its faults. Repentance only is a true force; it puts an end to everything.

With monuments as with men, position means everything.

Once she has committed sin, there is nothing left for the Protestant woman, whereas the Catholic Church, hope of forgiveness makes a woman sublime.

Love is like some fresh spring, first a stream and then a river, changing its aspect and its nature as it flows to plunge itself in some boundless ocean, where restricted natures only find monotony, but where great souls are engulfed in endless contemplation.