It is the evil that lies in ourselves that is ever least tolerant of the evil that dwells within others.

In the world which we know, among the different and primitive geniuses that preside over the evolution of the several species, there exists not one, excepting that of the dog, that ever gave a thought to the presence of man.

All mothers are rich when they love their children. There are no poor mothers, no ugly ones, no old ones. Their love is always the most beautiful of joys.

Justice is the very last thing of all wherewith the universe concerns itself. It is equilibrium that absorbs its attention.

The souls of all our brethren are ever hovering about us, craving for a caress, and only waiting for the signal.

All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing.

Brave old-flowers! Wall-flowers, Gilly flowers, Stocks! For even as the field-flowers, from which a trifle, a ray of beauty, a drop of perfume, divides them, they have charming names, the softest in the language; and each of them, like tiny, art-less ex-votos, or like medals bestowed by the gratitude of men, proudly bears three or four.