I am not deep, but I am very wide.

Wisdom is that apprehension of heavenly things to which the spirit rises through love.

Love is like some fresh spring, first a stream and then a river, changing its aspect and its nature as it flows to plunge itself in some boundless ocean, where restricted natures only find monotony, but where great souls are engulfed in endless contemplation.

Alas, two men are often necessary to provide a woman with a perfect lover, just as in literature a writer composes a type only by employing the singularities of several similar characters.

Hatred like love feeds on the merest trifles. Everything adds to it. Just as the being we love can do no wrong, so the one we hate can do no right.

A year at the breast is quite enough; children who are suckled longer are said to grow stupid, and I am all for popular sayings.

Courtesy is only a thin veneer on the general selfishness.