Lofty souls are always inclined to make a virtue of misfortune.

A Creole woman is like a child, she wants to possess everything immediately; like a child, she would set fire to a house in order to fry an egg. In her languor, she thinks of nothing; when passionately aroused, she thinks of any act possible or impossible.

Love is the only way on which even the dim-witted reaches certain heights.

There is something great and terrible about suicide.

Wisdom is that apprehension of heavenly things to which the spirit rises through love.

A good husband is never the first to go to sleep at night or the last to awake in the morning.

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.