Virtue in women is perhaps a question of temperament.
The happier a man, the more apt he is to tremble. In hearts exclusively tender, anxiety and jealousy are in exact proportion to happiness.
We exaggerate misfortune and happiness alike. We are never as bad off or as happy as we say we are.
The world will avenge itself upon all happiness in which it has no share.
Mud, raised by hurricanes, wells up in the noblest and purest of hearts.
Pity is woman's sweetest charm.