A wife loves out of duty, and duty leads to constraint, and constraint kills desire.

Death holds no horrors. It is simply the ultimate horror of life.

A man's name, title, and rank are artificial and impermanent; they do nothing to reveal what he really is, even to himself.

Who would prefer peace to the glory of hunger and thirst, of wading through mud, and dying in the service of one's country?

Faithful women are all alike, they think only of their fidelity, never of their husbands.

During war we imprison the rights of man.

There are no elements so diverse that they cannot be joined in the heart of a man.