There comes an hour when protest no longer suffices; after philosophy there must be action; the strong hand finishes what the idea has sketched.

Anger may be foolish and absurd, and one may be wrongly irritated, but a man never feels outraged unless in some respect he is fundamentally right.

Monsieur' to a convict is a glass of water to a man dying of thirst at sea; ignominy thirsts for respect.

While contemplating the bride, and eyeing the cake of soap, he muttered between his teeth: 'Tuesday. It was not Tuesday. Was it Tuesday? Perhaps it was Tuesday. Yes, it was Tuesday.' No one has ever discovered to what this monologue referred. Yes, perchance, this monologue had some connection with the last occasion on which he had dined, three days before, for it was now Friday.

When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind.

Nothing is really small; whoever is open to the deep penetration of nature knows this.

Adversity makes men, and prosperity makes monsters.