I am a galley slave to pen and ink.

Marriage must fight constantly against a monster which devours everything: routine.

It's catastrophies which turn wise and strong people into philosophers.

It would be curious to know what leads a man to become a stationer rather than a baker, when he is no longer compelled, as among the Egyptians, to succeed to his father's craft.

The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.

Love is the poetry of the senses.

The duration of passion is proportionate with the original resistance of the woman.