Woman is mistress of the art of completely imbittering the life of the person on whom she depends.

It would be a lowly art that allowed itself to be understood all at once.

Once more I am a wanderer, a pilgrim, through the world. But what else are you?

We are accustomed to see men deride what they do not understand, and snarl at the good and beautiful because it lies beyond their sympathies

A man's manners are a mirror in which he shows his portrait.

To be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state.

A man's errors are what make him amiable.