To feel, to love, to suffer, to devote herself, will always be the text of the life of woman.

Envy is the most stupid of vices, for there is no single advantage to be gained from it.

The pleasures of love proceed successively from a distich to a quatrain, from a quatrain to a sonnet, from a sonnet to a ballad, from a ballad to an ode, from an ode to a cantata, and from a cantata to a dithyramb. A husband who begins with the dithyramb is a fool.

We are never either so wretched or so happy as we say we are.

The virtues we acquire, which develop slowly within us, are the invisible links that bind each one of our existences to the others - existences which the spirit alone remembers, for Matter has no memory for spiritual things.

The man whom fate employs to awaken love in the heart of a young girl is often unaware of his work and therefore leaves it uncompleted.

To get a traveling salesman drunk is the height of impossibility.