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

Russian ladies, for the most part, cherish only Platonic love, without mingling any thought of matrimony with it; and Platonic love is exceedingly embarrassing.

I love enemies, though not in the Christian way. They amuse me, excite my blood. Being always on one’s guard, catching every glance, the significance of every word, guessing at intentions, frustrating their plots, pretending to be tricked, and suddenly, with a shove, upturning the whole enormous and arduously built edifice of their cunning and schemes—that’s what I call life.

Women only love those that they don’t know.

No good ever becomes of a man who forgets an old friend

Happiness comes the way the wind blows.

We almost always forgive those we understand.