I loved too sincerely, too completely, I venture to say, to be able to be happy easily.

Nothing is less in our power than the heart, and far from commanding we are forced to obey it.

At sixteen, the adolescent knows about suffering because he himself has suffered, but he barely knows that other beings also suffer.

Or, rather, let us be more simple and less vain.

We do not know either unalloyed happiness or unmitigated misfortune. Everything in this world is a tangled yarn; we taste nothing in its purity; we do not remain two moments in the same state. Our affections as well as bodies, are in a perpetual flux.

Never exceed your rights, and they will soon become unlimited.

She was dull, unattractive, couldn't tell the time, count money or tie her own shoe laces... But I loved her