Strong and rare natures are thus created; misery, almost always a stepmother, is sometimes a mother; privation gives birth to power of soul and mind; distress is the nurse of self-respect; misfortune is a good breast for great souls.

Why worry about what threatens our heads or purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.

Dying is nothing. What's terrible is not to live.

Stupidity talks, vanity acts.

Where no plan is laid, where the disposal of time is surrendered merely to the chance of incident, chaos will soon reign.

The poetic element lying hidden in most women is the source of their magnetic attraction.

Nations, like stars, are entitled to eclipse. All is well, provided the light returns and the eclipse does not become endless night. Dawn and resurrection are synonymous. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul.