Small natures require despotism to exercise their sinews, as great souls thirst for equality to give play to their heart.

Virtue, perhaps, is nothing more than politeness of soul.

In the first woman we love, we love everything. Growing older, we love the woman only.

Danger arouses interest. Where death is involved, the vilest criminal invariably stirs a little compassion.

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

Intuition, like the rays of the sun, acts only in an inflexibly straight line; it can guess right only on condition of never diverting its gaze; the freaks of chance disturb it.

Kindness is not without its rocks ahead. People are apt to put it down to an easy temper and seldom recognize it as the secret striving of a generous nature; whilst, on the other hand, the ill-natured get credit for all the evil they refrain from.