A horse never runs so fast as when he has other horses to catch up and outpace.
The act is judged of by the event.
What is now an act of reason, was but blind impulse.
What is it that love does to a woman? Without she only sleeps with it alone, she lives.
Every woman thinks herself attractive; even the plainest is satisfied with the charms she deems that she possesses.
When there is plenty of wine, sorrow and worry take wing.