Women are ever the dupes or the victims of their extreme sensitiveness.

Virtue, my pet, is an abstract idea, varying in its manifestations with the surroundings. Virtue in Provence, in Constantinople, in London, and in Paris bears very different fruit, but is none the less virtue.

With monuments as with men, position means everything.

One of the glories of society is to have created woman where Nature had made only a female; to have created a continuity of desire where Nature thought only of perpetuating the species; and, in fine, to have invented love.

During the great storms of our lives we imitate those captains who jettison their weightiest cargo.

Women, perhaps even require a little hypocrisy.

A mother who is really a mother is never free.