Those whose suffering is due to love are, as we say of certain invalids, their own physicians.

No doubt very few people understand the purely subjective nature of the phenomenon that we call love, or how it creates, so to speak, a supplementary person, distinct from the person whom the world knows by the same name, a person most of whose constituent elements are derived from ourselves.

Dear Friend: I have nearly died three times since morning.

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy.

The past not merely is not fugitive, it remains present.

Our passions shape our books, repose writes them in the intervals.

For often I have wished to see a person again without realising that it was simply because that personal recalled to me a hedge of hawthorns in blossom, and I have been led to believe, and to make someone else believe, in a renewal of affection, by what was no more than an inclination to travel.