The saints were his friends, and blessed him; the monsters were his friends, and guarded him.

The great acts of love are done by those who are habitually performing small acts of kindness.

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

Thought is the work of the intellect, reverie is its self-indulgence. To substitute day-dreaming for thought is to confuse a poison with a source of nourishment.

Let us fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices are the real murderers. The great dangers lie within ourselves.

One of the magnanimities of woman is to yield.

Smallness in a great man seems smaller by its disproportion with all the rest.