To say to a rich man: You are poor! is to tell the Archbishop of Granada that his sermons are worthless.

Hatred like love feeds on the merest trifles. Everything adds to it. Just as the being we love can do no wrong, so the one we hate can do no right.

A lover always thinks of his mistress first and himself second; with a husband it runs the other way.

Vulgar souls look hastily and superficially at the sea and accuse it of monotony; other more privileged beings could spend a lifetime admiring it and discovering new and changing phenomena that delight them. So it is with love.

Nothing about me surprises me.

Too great a display of delicacy can and does sometimes infringe upon de-cency.

To those who have exhausted politics, nothing remains but abstract thought.