All happiness depends on courage and work. I have had many periods of wretchedness, but with energy and above all with illusions, I pulled through them all.

Neither the passions not justice nor politics nor the great social forces ever consider the victims they strike.

We love because we love.

The wounds of self-love turn incurable when the oxide of self-love gets into them.

Vulgar souls look hastily and superficially at the sea and accuse it of monotony; other more privileged beings could spend a lifetime admiring it and discovering new and changing phenomena that delight them. So it is with love.

Old maids claw as cats do. They not only inflict wounds but experience pleasure in doing so. Nor will they fail to remind their victims of the blood drawn.

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