That which, perhaps, hears more nonsense than anything in the world, is a picture in a museum.

Never speak of yourself to others; make them talk about themselves instead; therein lies the whole art of pleasing. Everybody knows it, and everyone forgets it.

History is a novel which did take place; a novel is history that could take place.

Only a woman of the world is a woman; the rest are females.

A human being sheds its leaves like a tree. Sickness prunes it down; and it no longer offers the same silhouette to the eyes which loved it, to the people to whom it afforded shade and comfort.

When incredulity becomes a faith, it is less rational than a religion.

There are two infinities in this world: God up above, and down below, human baseness.