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.

One can acquire everything in solitude except character.

When you want to court a woman, court her sister first

War was then no longer this noble and unified outburst of souls in love with glory that he had imagined from Napoleon's proclamations.

Ah, Sir, a novel is a mirror carried along a high road. At one moment it reflects to your vision the azure skies, at another the mire of the puddles at your feet. And the man who carries this mirror in his pack will be accused by you of being immoral! His mirror shews the mire, and you blame the mirror! Rather blame that high road upon which the puddle lies, still more the inspector of roads who allows the water to gather and the puddle to form.

Your career will be a painful one. I divine something in you which offends the vulgar.

Friendship has its illusions no less than love.