It is not enough for a landscape to be interesting in itself. Eventually there must be a moral and historic interest.
Prudery is a kind of avarice, the worst of all.
I love her beauty, but I fear her mind.
A novel is like a bow, and the violin that produces the sound is the reader's soul.
One can acquire everything in solitude except character.
Why not make an end of it all?... My life is a succession of griefs and bitter feelings.... What is death?... A very small matter,when all is said; only a fool would be concerned about it.