The great secret of social alchemy is to profit best from each stage in our lives, to gather all its leaves in spring, all its flowers in summer, and all its fruits in autumn.

Few men are raised in our estimation by being too closely examined.

Foppery, being the chronic condition of women, is not so much noticed as it is when it breaks out on the person of the male bird.

What is a child, monsieur, but the image of two beings, the fruit of two sentiments spontaneously blended?

A woman, even a prude, is not long at a loss, however dire her plight. She would seen always to have in hand the fig leaf our Mother Eve bequeathed to her.

Old maids, having never bent their temper or their lives to other lives and other tempers, as woman's destiny requires, have for the most part a mania for making everything about them bend to them.

Children, dear and loving children, can alone console a woman for the loss of her beauty.