We like so much to talk of ourselves that we are never weary of those private interviews with a lover during the course of whole years, and for the same reason the devout like to spend much time with their confessor; it is the pleasure of talking of themselves, even though it be to talk ill.

It is day by day that we go forward; today we are as we were yesterday and tomorrow we shall be like ourselves today. So we go on without being aware of it, and this is one of the miracles of Providence that I so love.

I dislike clocks with second-hands; they cut up life into too small pieces.

If we could have a little patience, we should escape much mortification; time takes away as much as it gives.

Why do we discover faults so much more readily than perfection.

The heart never becomes wrinkled.

Racine will pass away like the taste for coffee.