Power, after love, is the first source of happiness.

Politics in a literary work, is like a gun shot in the middle of a concert, something vulgar, and however, something which is impossible to ignore.

Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.

Any man who talks about his love affairs thereby proves he is ignorant of love and is moved only by vanity.

Politics in the middle of things of the imagination is like a pistol shot in the middle of a concert.

Pleasure is often spoiled by describing it.

I used to think of deathlike I suppose soldiers think of it: it was a possible thing that I could well avoid by my skill.