A man is a poor creature compared to a woman.

God is the poet; men are but the actors. The great dramas of earth were written in heaven.

Our most natural feelings are those we are loath to confess, and fatuity is among them.

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

Love endows us with a sort of personal religion; we respect another live within ourselves.

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

Show me the woman, however loyal, who does not seek to rouse desire.