The only virtue on which I pride myself is my self-doubt; when a writer loses her self-doubt, the time has come to lay aside her pen.

The faults of husbands are often caused by the excess virtues of their wives.

One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.

But what is the heart, madame? It's worth less than people think. it's quite accommodating, it accepts anything. You give it whatever you have, it's not very particular. But the body... Ha! That's something else again! It has a cultivated taste, as they say, it knows what it wants. A heart doesn't choose, and one always ends up by loving.

What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner.

In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.

In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.