I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.

A sacrament by virtue of which each imparts nothing but vexations to the other.

Today nobility is gone: there is only a peerage.

Gratitude is a fool's word; we find it in the dictionary, but it is not in the heart of man.

A murderer is less loathsome to us than a spy. The murderer may have acted on a sudden mad impulse; he may be penitent and amend; but a spy is always a spy, night and day, in bed, at table, as he walks abroad; his vileness pervades every moment of his life

The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.

All human beings go through a previous life... Who knows how many fleshly forms the heir of heaven occupies before he can be brought to understand the value of that silence and solitude of spiritual worlds?