Envy lurks at the bottom of the human heart like a viper in its hole.

Men are so made that they can resist sound argument, and yet yield to a glance.

To speak of love is to make love.

To feel, to love, to suffer, to devote herself, will always be the text of the life of woman.

Thought is a key to all treasures; the miser's gains are ours without his cares. Thus I have soared above this world, where my enjoyments have been intellectual joys.

Jealousy, an eminently credulous and suspicious passion, allows fancy the greatest possible play. But it does not bestow wit, it banishes all sense.

No navigator has yet traced lines of latitude and longitude on the conjugal sea.