Hope is a light diet, but very stimulating.
For passion, be it observed, brings insight with it; it can give a sort of intelligence to simpletons, fools, and idiots, especially during youth.
The fact is that love is of two kinds, one which commands, and one which obeys. The two are quite distinct, and the passion to which the one gives rise is not the passion of the other.
Love may be or it may not, but where it is, it ought to reveal itself in its immensity.
When tempted to be unfaithful, the intellectual woman will try to inspire her husband with indifference, the sentimental woman with hatred, and the passionate woman with disgust.
Only when one has learned to acknowledge that wiser minds have made better words to come out of our mouths may we truly, then, begin to speak them.
Vice is perhaps a desire to learn everything.
As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move…similes arise, the paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle.
The man as he converses is the lover; silent, he is the husband.
In the first woman we love, we love everything. Growing older, we love the woman only.
In intimate family life, there comes a moment when children, willingly or no, become the judges of their parents.
Man is no match for woman where mischief reigns.
Women see everything or nothing according to the inclination of their hearts. Love is their sole light.
The boor covers himself, the rich man or the fool adorns himself, and the elegant man gets dressed.
When women love, they forgive everything...
For a sick man the world begins at his pillow and ends at the foot of his bed.
With a woman, always make good use of a secret. She will be proportionally grateful to you, like a scoundrel who grants his respect to an honest man he has been unable to swindle.
Old maids, having never bent their temper or their lives to other lives and other tempers, as woman's destiny requires, have for the most part a mania for making everything about them bend to them.
How sternly we reproach virtue for its failings, how indulgent we are to the better qualities of vice!
Sometimes at the best moments a single word or a look is enough.'
Ideas devour the ages as men are devoured by their passions. When man is cured, human nature will cure itself perhaps.
A good husband is never the first to go to sleep at night or the last to awake in the morning.
Courtesy is only a thin veneer on the general selfishness.
Old men are prone to invest the futures of young men with their own past sorrows.
Hope is a memory that desires, the memory is a memory that has enjoyed.
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