The mind may be exhausted, but the language of the heart is inexhaustible.

What is love, if it can calculate and provide against its own decay?

Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.

A man must know how to fly in the face of opinion; a woman to submit to it.

Taste is to literature what bon ton is in society.

Where no interest is takes in science, literature and liberal pursuits, mere facts and insignificant criticisms necessarily become the themes of discourse; and minds, strangers alike to activity and meditation, become so limited as to render all intercourse with them at once tasteless and oppressive.

[On Napoleon:] One has the impression of an imperious wind blowing about one's ears when one is near that man.