Hatred is the vice of narrow souls; they feed it with all their littleness, and make it the pretext of base tyrannies.

The secret of the nobility and beauty of great ladies lies in the art with which they can shed their veils. In such situations, they become like ancient statues. If they kept the merest scarf on, they would be lewd. Your bourgeois woman will always try to cover her nakedness.

To forget is the great secret of strong creative natures; to forget is the way nature herself who knows no past and who at every hour begins the mysteries of her untiring labors afresh.

There are as many mediocrities exalted through pity as masters decried through envy.

When one has no particular talent for anything, one takes to the pen.

Clouds symbolize the veils that shroud God.

Though your vulgarian does not readily admit that feelings can change overnight, certainly two lovers often part far more abruptly than they came together.