A forty-year-old woman is only something to men who have loved her in her youth.
It is difficult to escape from the prevailing disease of one's generation.
A novel is like a bow, and the violin that produces the sound is the reader's soul.
After moral poisoning, one requires physical remedies and a bottle of champagne.
In our calling, we have to choose; we must make our fortune either in this world or in the next, there is no middle way.
The tyranny of public opinion (and what an opinion!) is as fatuous in the small towns of France as it is in the United States of America.