One day, about the middle of July 1838, one of the carriages, lately introduced to Paris cabstands, and known as Milords, was driving down the Rue de l'Universite, conveying a stout man of middle height in the uniform of a captain of the National Guard.

In France we can cauterize wounds but we do not yet know any remedy for the injuries inflicted by a bon mot.

There are no principles; there are only events. There is no good and bad, there are only circumstances.

Law is a silvery web that lets the big flies pass and catches all the small ones.

All we are is in the soul.

On the moral plane, true friends enjoy the same protection as the sense of smell confers upon dogs. They scent the sorrow of their friends, they divine its causes, and they clasp it to their minds and hearts.

It's not enough to be a good person. You also have to show it.