There are few things so pleasant as a picnic eaten in perfect comfort.

I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.

A mother only does her children harm if she makes them the only concern of her life.

No action is in itself good or bad, but only such according to convention.

The passing moment is all we can be sure of; it is only common sense to extract its utmost value from it.

One cannot find peace in work or in pleasure, in the world or in a convent, but only in one's soul.

The essence of the beautiful is unity in variety.