There are some women whose pregnancy would make some sly bachelor smile.

Society is no more indulgent than was the God of Genesis.

A sacrament by virtue of which each imparts nothing but vexations to the other.

Women are happy to possess a man whom all women covet.

Love, according to our contemporary poets, is a privilege which two beings confer upon one another, whereby they may mutually cause one another much sorrow over absolutely nothing.

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

As a rule, only the poor are generous.