My dear Madame, I just noticed that I forgot my cane at your house yesterday; please be good enough to give it to the bearer of this letter. P.S. Kindly pardon me for disturbing you; I just found my cane.

Time passes, and little by little everything that we have spoken in falsehood becomes true.

At the heart of our friendly or purely social relations, there lurks a hostility momentarily cured but recurring by fits and starts.

A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

The memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment.

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.

Physical love, so unjustly decried, forces everyone to manifest even the smallest bits of kindness he possesses, of selflessness,that they shine in the eyes of all who surround him.