I've already told you: the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure.

There are thorns everywhere, but along the path of vice, roses bloom above them.

Are not laws dangerous which inhibit the passions? Compare the centuries of anarchy with those of the strongest legalism in any country you like and you will see that it is only when the laws are silent that the greatest actions appear.

Can we become other than what we are?

No lover, if he be of good faith, and sincere, will deny he would prefer to see his mistress dead than unfaithful.

There is a kind of pleasure which comes from sacrilege or the profanation of the objects offered us for worship.

Now I beg of you to tell me whether I must love a human being simply because he exists or resembles me and whether for those reasons alone I must suddenly prefer him to myself?