Something was dead in each of us, and what was dead was hope

If property had simply pleasures, we could stand it; but its duties make it unbearable. In the interest of the rich we must get rid of it.

One should never make one's entrance with a scandal. One should reserve that to give an interest to one's old age.

Pleasure without Champagne is purely artificial.

Self-denial is the shining sore on the leprous body of Christianity.

There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the senses.

Hearts Live By Being Wounded