As for the bishop, the sight of the guillotine was a great shock to him, from which he recovered only slowly.

We are given up to those gods, those monsters, those giants, — our thoughts.

The delight we inspire in others has this enchanting peculiarity that, far from being diminished like every other reflection, it returns to us more radiant than ever.

To die is nothing; but it is terrible not to live.

We are not loved by our friends for what we are; rather, we are loved in spite of what we are.

Beauty is as useful as the useful. More so, perhaps. (Le beau est aussi utile que l'utile. Plus peut-etre.)

One of the hardest tasks is to extract continually from one's soul an almost inexhaustible ill will.