Taste is, so to speak, the microscope of the judgment.

O love, if I regret the age when one savors you, it is not for the hour of pleasure, but for the one that follows it.

Why should we build our happiness on the opinons of others, when we can find it in our own hearts?

Two things, almost incompatible, are united in me in a manner which I am unable to understand: a very ardent temperament, lively and tumultuous passions, and, at the same time, slowly developed and confused ideas, which never present themselves until it is too late. One might say that my heart and my mind do not belong to the same person.

Our greatest misfortunes come to us from ourselves.

I am not made like any of those I have seen. I venture to believe that I am not made like any of those who are in existence. If I am not better, at least I am different.

Our affections as well as our bodies are in perpetual flux.