Ah! mon Dieu! how the mind shrinks by loving! it is true that the soul does not, but what can one do with a soul?

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

I do not comprehend those rules of conduct that make us so content with self and so cold to those we love. I detest prudence, I even hate (suffer me to say so) those duties of friendship which substitute propriety for interest, and circumspection for feeling. How shall I say it? I love the abandonment to impulse, I act from impulse only, and I love to madness that others do the same by me.

The logic of the heart is absurd

Oh! you shall see how well I know how to love! I can only love; I know only how to love! With moderate faculties, we can yet do much when we center them on a single object.

If you can attain repose and calm, believe that you have seized happiness.

Ah! mon Dieu! how the mind shrinks by loving! it is true that the soul does not, but what can one do with a soul?