The greater a man's talents, the more marked his idiosyncracies. Yet in the provinces originality is considered perilously close to lunacy.
True lovers know how trifling a thing is money yet how difficult to blend with love!
A courage which looks easy & yet is rare; the courage of a teacher repeating day after day the same lessons - the least rewarded of all forms of courage.
Men are so made that they can resist sound argument, and yet yield to a glance.
As a rule, only the poor are generous. Rich people can always find excellent reasons for not handing over twenty thousand francs to a relative.
Love, according to our contemporary poets, is a privilege which two beings confer upon one another, whereby they may mutually cause one another much sorrow over absolutely nothing.
A lover always thinks of his mistress first and himself second; with a husband it runs the other way.
Marriage must incessantly contend with a monster that devours everything: familiarity.
The man as he converses is the lover; silent, he is the husband.
Everything becomes agitated. Ideas quick-march into motion like battalions of a grand army to its legendary fighting ground, and the battle rages. Memories charge in, bright flags on high; the cavalry of metaphor deploys with a magnificent gallop; the artillery of logic rushes up with clattering wagons and cartridges; on imagination's orders, sharpshooters sight and fire; forms and shapes and characters rear up; the paper is spread with ink - for the nightly labor begins and ends with torrents of this black water, as a battle opens and concludes with black powder.
True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations: it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart.
A good husband is never the first to go to sleep at night or the last to awake in the morning.
An ounce of courage will go farther with women than a pound of timidity.
Necessity is often the spur to genius.
No woman allows her lover to descend from his pedestal. Even a god is not forgiven the slightest pettiness.
Give to a wounded heart seclusion; consolation nor reason ever effected anything in such a case.
If the artist does not fling himself, without reflecting, into his work, as Curtis flung himself into the yawning gulf, as the soldier flings himself into the enemy's trenches, and if, once in this crater, he does not work like a miner on whom the walls of his gallery have fallen in; if he contemplates difficulties instead of overcoming them one by one ... he is simply looking on at the suicide of his own talent.
Self-love is as protective as the Deity; Disenchantment is as perspicacious as a surgeon; Experience is as provident as a mother. Such are the theologic virtues of marriage.
Love is not only a feeling, it is also an art. A simple word, a sensitive precaution, a mere nothing reveal to a woman the sublime artist who can touch her heart without withering it.
It is a singular fact that most men of action incline to the theory of fatalism, while the greater part of men of thought believe in providence.
Man is no match for woman where mischief reigns.
Men are perfectly willing to abandon a woman but they refuse to be abandoned by her.
No navigator has yet traced lines of latitude and longitude on the conjugal sea.
Love may be or it may not, but where it is, it ought to reveal itself in its immensity.
White hair often covers the head, but the heart that holds it is ever young.
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