Where there is a question of economy, I prefer privation.
The beings who appear cold, but are only timid, adore where they dare to love.
Love sometimes elevates, creates new qualities, suspends the working of evil inclinations; but only for a day. Love, then, is an Oriental despot, whose glance lifts a slave from the dust, and then consigns him to it again.
To have ideas is to gather flowers; to think is to weave them into garlands.
Poor humanity!--so dependent, so insignificant, and yet so great.
We reform others unconsciously when we walk uprightly.