That prudery which survives youth and beauty resembles a scarecrow left in the fields after harvest.

Age whitens hairs, but not sin.

People who declare that they belong to no party certainly do not belong to ours.

To protect ourselves against the storms of passion, marriage with a woman is a harbor in the tempest; but with a bad woman it is a tempest in the harbor.

In love we are not only liable to betray ourselves, but also the secrets of others.

The grave is a crucible where memory is purified; we only remember a dead friend by those qualities which make him regretted.

It is almost impossible to find those who admire us entirely lacking in taste.