nothing is stronger or better founded than the sentiments for which we can give no reason.

Calumny spreads like an oil-spot: we endeavor to cleanse it, but the mark remains.

Oh! how many times we die before death!

I love the abandonment to impulse, I act from impulse only, and I love to madness that others do the same by me.

none but the unhappy are worthy of friends; if your soul had never suffered never could you have entered mine.

I read what I feel, and not what I see.

The logic of the heart is absurd