Real sorrow is almost as difficult to discover as real poverty. An instinctive delicacy hides the rays of the one and the wounds of the other.
By becoming unhappy, we sometimes learn how to be less so.
A friendship will be young after the lapse of half a century; a passion is old at the end of three months.
Years do not make sages; they only make old men.
Feeling loves a subdued light.
When fresh sorrows have caused us to take some steps in the right way, we may not complain. We have invested in a life annuity, but the income remains.