And then, strange to say, the first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity; in a girl, it is boldness.

The wicked envy and hate; it is their way of admiring.

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.

My tastes are aristocratic, my actions democratic.

At least you are mine! Soon – in a few months, perhaps, my angel will sleep in my arms, will awaken in my arms, will live there. All your thought at all moments, all your looks will be for me; all my thought, all my moments, all my looks will be for you!

I was dying when you came.

A strange thing has happened, do you know? I am in darkness. There is a person who, departing, took away the sun.