This is the curse of our age, even the strangest aberrations are no cure for boredom.
I think being condemned to death is the only real distinction," said Mathilde. "It is the only thing which cannot be bought.
Love is like fever; it comes and goes without the will having any part of the process.
Pleasure is often spoiled by describing it.
The worst of prison life, he thought, was not being able to close his door.
I no longer find such pleasure in that preeminently good society, of which I was once so fond. It seems to me that beneath a cloak of clever talk it proscribes all energy, all originality. If you are not a copy, people accuse you of being ill-mannered.