I have often thought that the nature of women was interior to that of men in general, but superior in particular.

Weak men often from the very principle of their weakness derive a certain susceptibility; delicacy and taste which render them, in those particulars, much superior to men of stronger and more consistent minds, who laugh at them.

To divest one's self of some prejudices would be like taking off the skin to feel the better.

True delicacy, as true generosity, is more wounded by an offence from itself--if I may be allowed the expression--than to itself.

We laugh heartily to see a whole flock of sheep jump because one did so. Might not one imagine that superior beings do the same, and for exactly the same reason?

Despair gives the shocking ease to the mind that a mortification gives to the body.

Our companions please us less from the charms we find in their conversation than from those they find in ours.