Nothing is unimportant to a man plunged in despair. He is as credulous as a criminal sentenced to death who listens to a lunatic raving to him about how he can escape through the keyhole.

The man as he converses is the lover; silent, he is the husband.

Science is the language of the temporal world; love is that of the spiritual world. Man, indeed, describes more than he explains; while the angelic spirit sees and understands. Science saddens man; love enraptures the angel; science is still seeking; love has found.

Nothing is a greater impediment to being on good terms with others than being ill at ease with yourself.

Thought is the only treasure that God sets outside all power and keeps to serve as a secret link among the unhappy.

Like hunger, physical love is a necessity. But man's appetite for amour is never so regular or so sustained as his appetite for the delights of the table.

We do not wish success yet we obtain it. Always we find what we are not looking for. These words are too true not to become a proverb some day.