She had caprices of a marvellous unexpectedness, and how is any one to imitate a caprice?
Beauty is nothing but a promise of happiness.
The only unhappiness is a life of boredom.
Indeed, man has two different beings inside him. What devil thought of that malicious touch?
It is the nobility of their style which will make our writers of 1840 unreadable forty years from now.
True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.