We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.

At first we hope too much and later on, not enough.

The egoist does not tolerate egoism.

The man abandoned by his friends, one after another, without just cause, will acquire, the reputation of being hard to please, changeable, ungrateful, unsociable.

Have friends, not for the sake of receiving, but of giving.

What is experience? A poor little hut constructed from the ruins of the palace of gold and marble called our illusions.

There is a slowness in affairs which ripens them, and a slowness which rots them.