The bonds that unite us to another human being are sanctified when he or she adopts the same point of view as ourselves in judging one of our imperfections.

We were resigned to suffering, thinking that we loved outside ourselves, and we perceive that our love is a function of our sorrow, that our love perhaps is our sorrow.

Perfume is that last and best reserve of the past, the one which when all out tears have run dry, can make us cry again!

There is no idea that does not carry in itself a possible refutation, no word that does not imply its opposite.

A woman one loves rarely suffices for all our needs, so we deceive her with another whom we do not love.

Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

Do you suppose that it is within your power to insult me? You evidently are not aware to whom you are speaking? Do you imagine that the envenomed spittle of five hundred little gentlemen of your type, heaped one upon another, would succeed in slobbering so much as the tips of my august toes?