Love is the poetry of the senses.

He has great tranquility of heart who cares neither for the praises nor the fault-finding of men.

Once she has committed sin, there is nothing left for the Protestant woman, whereas the Catholic Church, hope of forgiveness makes a woman sublime.

For the person who loves God, worship is the daily bread of patience.

Some day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another's happiness than in your own.

Our most natural feelings are those we are loath to confess, and fatuity is among them.

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