You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it.

What happened between those two beings? Nothing. They were adoring one another.

Every good quality runs into a defect; economy borders on avarice, the generous are not far from the prodigal, the brave man is close to the bully; he who is very pious is slightly sanctimonious; there are just as many vices to virtue as there are holes in the mantle of Diogenes.

Nature, like a kind and smiling mother, lends herself to our dreams and cherishes our fancies.

It is ourselves we have to fear. Prejudice is the real robber, and vice the real murderer.

Strange to say, the luminous world is the invisible world; the luminous world is that which we do not see. Our eyes of flesh see only night.

A sewer is a cynic. It tells All.