A poor man defended himself when charged with stealing food to appease the cravings of hunger, saying, the cries of the stomach silenced those of the conscience.

Love in France is a comedy; in England a tragedy; in Italy an opera seria; and in Germany a melodrama.

Memory seldom fails when its office is to show us the tombs of our buried hopes.

To appear rich, we become poor.

Grief is, of all the passions, the one that is the most ingenious and indefatigable in finding food for its own subsistence.

It is a sad thing to look at happiness only through another's eyes.

Thoughts come maimed and plucked of plumage from the lips, which, from the pea, in the silence of your own leisure and study, would be born with far more beauty.