Numbers are intellectual witnesses that belong only to mankind.
For pain is perhaps but a violent pleasure? Who could determine the point where pleasure becomes pain, where pain is still a pleasure? Is not the utmost brightness of the ideal world soothing to us, while the lightest shadows of the physical world annoy?
Glory is a poison, good to be taken in small doses.
Misfortune makes of certain souls a vast desert through which rings the voice of God.
The winter's frost must rend the burr of the nut before the fruit is seen. So adversity tempers the human heart, to discover its real worth.
Evasion is unworthy of us, and is always the intimate of equivocation.
The prodigality of millionaires is comparable only to their greed of gain. Let some whim or passion seize them and money is of no account. In fact these Croesuses find whims and passions harder to come by than gold.
There is nothing original; all is reflected light.
Love passes quickly, and passes like a street Arab, anxious to mark his way with mischief.
To stroll is a science, it is the gastronomy of the eye. To walk is to vegetate, to stroll is to live.... To stroll is to enjoy, it is to assume a mind-set, it is to admire the sublime pictures of unhappiness, of love, of joy, of graceful or grotesque portraits; it is to plunge one's vision to the depths of a thousand existences: young, it is to desire everything; old, it is to live the life of the young, to marry their passions.
The innocence of virgins is like milk which turns when exposed to a clap of thunder, to a tart smell, to a hot day, to the merest nothing.
A great love is a credit opened in favor of a power so consuming that the moment of bankruptcy must inevitably occur.
This surface good-nature which captivates a new acquaintance and is no bar to treachery, which knows no scruple and is never at fault for an excuse, which makes an outcry at the wound which it condones, is one of the most distinctive features of the journalist. This camaraderie (the word is a stroke of genius) corrodes the noblest minds; it eats into their pride like rust, kills the germ of great deeds, and lends a sanction to moral cowardice.
Ambitious men spend their youth in rendering themselves worthy of patronage; it is their great mistake. While the foolish creatures are laying in stores of knowledge and energy, so that they shall not sink under the weight of responsible posts that recede from them, schemers come and go who are wealthy in words and destitute of ideas, astonish the ignorant, and creep into the confidence of those who have a little knowledge.
A year at the breast is quite enough; children who are suckled longer are said to grow stupid, and I am all for popular sayings.
To man, faith; to woman, doubt. She bears the heavier burden. Does not woman invariably suffer for two?
By resorting to self-resignation, the unfortunate consummate.
Once she has committed sin, there is nothing left for the Protestant woman, whereas the Catholic Church, hope of forgiveness makes a woman sublime.
What saves the virtue of many a woman is that protecting god, the impossible.
A rent in your clothes is a mishap, a stain on them is a vice.
The weakest being on earth can accomplish feats of strength. The frailest urchin will ring every doorbell on the street in arctic weather or hoist himself aloft to inscribe his name on a virgin monument.
Study lends a kind of enchantment to all our surroundings.
Is there any instinct more deeply implanted in the heart of man than the pride of protection, a protection which is constantly exerted for a fragile and defenceless creature?
Are not poets men who fulfill their hopes prematurely?
Journalists grow accustomed to seeing evil and they let it pass; they proceed to approve it, and they end by committing it themselves.
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