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.

The artist's morality lies in the force and truth of his description.

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.

Passions are less mischievous than boredom, for passions tend to diminish and boredom increase.

We priests are the surgeons of souls, and it is our duty to deliver them of shameful secrets they would fain conceal, with hands careful to neither wound no pollute.

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