Ideas devour the ages as men are devoured by their passions. When man is cured, human nature will cure itself perhaps.

In a husband, there is only a man; in a married woman, there is a man, a father, a mother and a woman.

One can imagine the look the two lovers exchanged; it was like a flame, for virtuous lovers have not a shred of hypocrisy.

The happier a man, the more apt he is to tremble. In hearts exclusively tender, anxiety and jealousy are in exact proportion to happiness.

Handsome widows, after a twelve-month, enjoy a latitude and longitude without limit.

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

The woman who is about to deceive her husband always carefully thinks out how she is going to act, but she is never logical.