Love, according to our contemporary poets, is a privilege which two beings confer upon one another, whereby they may mutually cause one another much sorrow over absolutely nothing.

Envy is the most stupid of vices, for there is no single advantage to be gained from it.

Thanks to the toleration preached by the encyclopedists of the eighteenth century, the sorcerer is exempt from torture.

Marriage is an institution necessary to the maintenance of society but contrary to the laws of nature.

The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition.

A rent in your clothes is a mishap, a stain on them is a vice.

In painting, you can suddenly come upon something so huge that no-one can deal with it.