All we are is in the soul.
A mother's life, you see, is one long succession of dramas, now soft and tender, now terrible. Not an hour but has its joys and fears.
When women love, they forgive everything...
A careful observation of Nature will disclose pleasantries of superb irony. She has for instance placed toads close to flowers.
When there is an old maid in the house, a watchdog is unnecessary.
Once she has committed sin, there is nothing left for the Protestant woman, whereas the Catholic Church, hope of forgiveness makes a woman sublime.