The city does not take away, neither does the country give, solitude; solitude is within us.

That which we know is but little; that which we have a presentiment of is immense; it is in this direction that the poet outruns the learned man.

Reason guides but a small part of man, and the rest obeys feeling, true or false, and passion, good or bad.

What is love? two souls and one flesh; friendship? two bodies and one soul.

Friendship admits of difference of character, as love does that of sex.

As long as we love, we lend to the beloved object qualities of mind and heart which we deprive him of when the day of misunderstanding arrives.

Solitude vivifies, isolation kills.