The hatred of luxury is not an intelligent hatred. It implies a hatred of arts.

The poor man shuddered, overflowed with an angelic joy; he declared in his transport that this would last through life; he said to himself that he really had not suffered enough to deserve such radiant happiness, and he thanked God, in the depths of his soul, for having permitted that he, a miserable man, should be so loved by this innocent being.

God will bless you,' said he, 'you are an angel since you take care of the flowers.' 'No,' she replied. 'I am the devil, but that's all the same to me.

Close by the Rights of Man, at the least set beside them, are the Rights of the Spirit.

These are dark radiances. They have no suspicion that they are to be pitied. Certainly they are so. He who does not weep does not see. They are to be admired and pitied, as one would both pity and admire a being at once night and day, without eyes beneath his lashes but with a star on his brow.

No one knows like a woman how to say things which are at once gentle and deep.

Animals are nothing but the portrayal of our virtues and vices made manifest to our eyes, the visible reflections of our souls.