One cannot but mistrust a prospect of felicity: one must enjoy it before one can believe in it.

I might, by chance, write something just as shoddy; But then I wouldn't show it to everybody.

Ah! devout though I may be, I am no less a man!

You are a fool in four letters, my son.

One ought to look a good deal at oneself before thinking of condemning others.

I live on good soup, not on fine words.

Each day my reason tells me so; But reason doesn't rule in love, you know.