Virtue, my pet, is an abstract idea, varying in its manifestations with the surroundings. Virtue in Provence, in Constantinople, in London, and in Paris bears very different fruit, but is none the less virtue.
Nothing is irredeemably ugly but sin.
Society is no more indulgent than was the God of Genesis.
A woman must be a genius to create a good husband.
We love because we love.
And he, like many jaded people, had few pleasures left in life save good food and drink.