Life is a malady in which sleep soothes us every sixteen hours; it is a palliation; death is the remedy.

Be my brother or I will kill you.

It is said of a lonely man that he does not appreciate the life of society. This is like saying he hates hiking because he dislikes walking in thick forest on a dark night.

Every woman in choosing a lover takes more account of the way in which other women regard the man than of her own.

Nature in causing reason and the passions to be born at one and the same time apparently wished by the latter gift to distract man from the evil she had done him by the former, and by only permitting him to live for a few years after the loss of his passions seems to show her pity by early deliverance from a life that reduces him to reason as his sole resource.

We take our colors, chameleon-like, from each other.

It is when their age of passions is past that great men produce their masterpieces, just as it is after volcanic eruptions that the soil is most fertile.