In all lands, sailors form a race apart. They profess a congenital contempt for landlubbers. As for the tradesman, he understands nothing of sailors nor cares a fig about them. He is content to rob them if he can.
Honore de BalzacWe flew back home like swallows. 'Is it happiness that makes us so light?' Agathe asked.
Honore de BalzacAuthentic love always assumes the mystery of modesty, even in its expression, because actions speak louder than words. Unlike a feigned love, it feels no need to set a conflagration.
Honore de Balzac