Woman is the Sunday of man: not his repose only, but his joy; the salt of his life.

Each year, it is necessary to respire, to take breath again, to revive ourselves at the great living sources that forever keep their eternal freshness. Where can we find them if not at the cradle of our race, on the sacred summits from where descend the Indus and the Ganges....?

He who would confine his thought to present time will not understand present reality.

Great hearts alone understand how much glory there is in being good.

Love is strong in its passion; affection is powerful in its gentleness.

Improvement depends far less upon length of tasks and hours of application than is supposed. Children can take in but a little each day; they are like vases with a narrow neck; you may pour little or pour much, but much will not enter at a time.

Woman is a miracle of divine contradictions.