I did not want to be taken for a fool-the typical French reason for performing the worst of deeds without remorse.

Happy men are grave. They carry their happiness cautiously, as they would a glass filled to the brim which the slightest movement could cause to spill over, or break.

The crimes of extreme civilization are certainly more atrocious than those of extreme barbarism.

For in Paris, whenever God puts a pretty woman there (the streets), the Devil, in reply, immediately puts a fool to keep her.

Next to the wound, what women make best is the bandage.

I did not want to be taken for a fool-the typical French reason for performing the worst of deeds without remorse.

Yet, whether to the glory or to the shame of human nature, in what we call pleasure (with an excess of scorn, perhaps) there are abysses as deep as those of love.