I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.
Though the human heart may have to pause for rest when climbing the heights of affection it rarely stops on the slippery slope of hatred.
We cannot confront solitude without moral resources.
Six weeks with a fever is an eternity.
No woman dares to refuse love without a motive, for nothing is more natural than to yield to love.
Want him to be more of a man? Try being more of a woman!
Man is neither good nor bad; he is born with instincts and abilities.
Events are never absolute, their outcome depends entirely upon the individual.
I do not regard a broker as a member of the human race.
A lover teaches a wife all her husband has kept from her.
Can you find a man who loves the occupation that provides him with a livelihood? Professions are like marriages; we end by feeling only their inconveniences.
People exaggerate both happiness and unhappiness; we are never so fortunate nor so unfortunate as people say we are.
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.
Power is not revealed by striking hard or often, but by striking true.
Death unites as well as separates; it silences all paltry feeling.
A woman must be a genius to create a good husband.
The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition.
Nothing is a greater impediment to being on good terms with others than being ill at ease with yourself.
Noble hearts are neither jealous nor afraid because jealousy spells doubt and fear spells pettiness.
A man is a poor creature compared to a woman.
There is a cure for temptation. What? Yielding to it.
There are words which cut like steel.
One hour of love has a whole life in it.
Our most bitter enemies are our own kith and kin. Kings have no brothers, no sons, no mother!
How can we explain the perpetuity of envy--a vice which yields no return?
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