A penniless man who has no ties to bind him is master of himself at any rate, but a luckless wretch who is in love no longer belongs to himself, and may not take his own life. Love makes us almost sacred in our own eyes; it is the life of another that we revere within us; then and so begins for us the cruelest trouble of all.

No navigator has yet traced lines of latitude and longitude on the conjugal sea.

A good husband is never the first to go to sleep at night or the last to awake in the morning.

The secret of great fortunes without apparent cause is a crime forgotten, for it was properly done.

Glory is a poison, good to be taken in small doses.

Love is the poetry of the senses.

Women see everything or nothing according to the inclination of their hearts. Love is their sole light.