After Voltaire: envy is chained to the portico of the temple of glory and can neither enter nor leave.
Style disdains comfort and is always ready to sacrifice virtue.
When love ends, we cry out against destiny. When friendship ends, we cry out against our friend.
Your words and my words are the same, but not our meaning.
Asceticism and celibacy can conceal many incapacities.
Our detachments move us toward freedom and death.