Before we love with our heart, we already love with our imagination.
The happiest woman sees not gladness alone reflected from her mirror; its surface will inevitably be sometimes dimmed with sighs.
Misfortune comes to people who live only on the memory of their past grandeur.
Flirtation and coquetry are so nearly allied as to be identical; both are the art of successful and pleasing deception.
When greatness descends from its lofty pedestal, it assumes human dimensions.
It is better not to be loved than to be ill-loved or half-loved.