Good befalls us while we sleep, sometimes.

Small natures require despotism to exercise their sinews, as great souls thirst for equality to give play to their heart.

Glory is the sunshine of the dead

Sects differ more in name than tenets.

A woman filled with faith in the one she loves is the creation of a novelist's imagination.

For pain is perhaps but a violent pleasure? Who could determine the point where pleasure becomes pain, where pain is still a pleasure? Is not the utmost brightness of the ideal world soothing to us, while the lightest shadows of the physical world annoy?

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