Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there.

Women love only those whom they do not know!

I am like a mariner born and bred on board a buccaneer brig whose soul has become so inured to storm and strife that if cast ashore he would weary and languish no matter how alluring the shady groves and how bright the gentle sun.

One should never spurn a penitent criminal: in his despair he may become twice as much a criminal as before.

The history of a man's soul, even the pettiest soul, is hardly less interesting and useful than the history of a whole people; especially when the former is the result of the observations of a mature mind upon itself, and has been written without any egotistical desire of arousing sympathy or astonishment. Rousseau's Confessions has precisely this defect – he read it to his friends.

For what did the creator prepare me,Why did he so terribly contradictThe hopes of my youth?

Of two friends, one is always the slave of the other, although frequently neither acknowledges the fact to himself.