Men are so made that they can resist sound argument, and yet yield to a glance.

Man is no match for woman where mischief reigns.

Creole women take after Europe in their intelligence, after the Tropics in the illogical violence of their passions, and after the Indies in the apathetic indolence with which they commit or suffer good and evil.

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

We do not attach ourselves lastingly to anything that has not cost us care, labor or longing.

A woman in the depths of despair proves so persuasive that she wrenches the forgiveness lurking deep in the heart of her lover. This is all the more true when that woman is young, pretty, and so decollete as to emerge from the neck of her gown in the costume of Eve.

But woman brings disorder into society through passion.