A man is a poor creature compared to a woman.

If youth were not ignorant and timid, civilization would be impossible.

In family life people almost always adjust themselves to misfortune. They make a bed of it and hope makes them accept that bed, however hard it is.

Art's greatest efforts are invariably a timid counterfeit of Nature.

Are not our noblest feelings as it were the poems of our will.

Does not any limit imposed upon one inspire a desire to go beyond it? Does not our keenest suffering arise when our free will is crossed?

Reproach is usually honest, which is more than can be said of praise.