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.

We cannot confront solitude without moral resources.

In France we can cauterize wounds but we do not yet know any remedy for the injuries inflicted by a bon mot.

People who are in love suspect nothing or everything.

But reason always cuts a poor figure beside sentiment; the one being essentially restricted, like everything that is positive, while the other is infinite.

In Paris, the greatest expression of personal satisfaction known to man is the smirk on the face of a male, highly pleased with himself as he leaves the boudoir of a lady.

Our heart is a treasury; if you pour out all its wealth at once, you are bankrupt.