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Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

-Honore De Balzac

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Holding This Book In

Honore De Balzac

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Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

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Everything Is Bilateral In The Domain Of Thought. Ideas Are Binary. Janus Is The Myth Of Criticism And The Symbol Of Genius. Only God Is Triangular!

Power Is Action; The Electoral Principle Is Discussion. No Political Action Is Possible When Discussion Is Permanently Established.

When You Doubt Your Power, You Give Power To Your Doubt.

We Are Never Either So Wretched Or So Happy As We Say We Are.

Art's Greatest Efforts Are Invariably A Timid Counterfeit Of Nature.

Love Is A Game In Which One Always Cheats.

Nothing Is A Greater Impediment To Being On Good Terms With Others Than Being Ill At Ease With Yourself.

What Is Art? Nature Concentrated.

A Woman's Greatest Charm Consists In A Constant Appeal To A Man's Generosity By A Gracious Declaration Of Helplessness Which Fills Him With Pride And Awakens The Most Magnificent Feelings In His Heart.

Love Endows Us With A Sort Of Personal Religion; We Respect Another Live Within Ourselves.

There Are No Principles; There Are Only Events. There Is No Good And Bad, There Are Only Circumstances.

When One Of Those Skirt-bearing Animals Has Set Herself Up Above All By Permitting Herself To Be Deified, No Power On Earth Can Be As Proud As She.

Prostitution And Robbery Are Two Living Protests, Respectively Female And Male, Made By The Natural State Against The Social State.

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.

Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

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.

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.

Rare Is The Man Who Suffers No Remorse As He Passes From The State Of Confidant To That Of Rival.

Sects Differ More In Name Than Tenets.

When We Drink Coffee, Ideas March In Like The Army

To Be Happy, A Man Must Love His Wife As She Chooses To Be Loved.

In The Silence Of Their Studios, Busied For Days At A Time With Works Which Leave The Mind Relatively Free, Painters Become Like Women; Their Thoughts Can Revolve Around The Minor Facts Of Life And Penetrate Their Hidden Meaning.

For A Sick Man The World Begins At His Pillow And Ends At The Foot Of His Bed.

A Husband Can Commit No Greater Blunder Than To Discuss His Wife, If She Is Virtuous, With His Mistress; Unless It Be To Mention His Mistress, If She Is Beautiful, To His Wife.

One Of The Most Detestable Habits Of Lilliputian Minds Is To Find Their Own Littleness In Others.

Vivacity Is The Health Of The Spirit.

The Fame Of Surgeons Resembles The Fame Of Actors, Who Live Only During Their Lifetime And Whose Talent Is No Longer Appreciable Once They Have Disappeared.

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.

Good Befalls Us While We Sleep, Sometimes.

The Sanctity Of Womanhood Is Incompatible With Social Liberty And Social Claims; And For A Woman Emancipation Means Corruption.

By Dint Of Making Sacrifices, A Man Grows Interested In The Person Who Exacts Them. Great Ladies, Like Courtesans, Know This Truth By Instinct.

In Family Life People Almost Always Adjust Themselves To Misfortune. They Make A Bed Of It And Hope Makes Them Accept That Bed, However Hard It Is.

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 Lover Always Thinks Of His Mistress First And Himself Second; With A Husband It Runs The Other Way.

Marriage Is A Fight To The Death. Before Contracting It, The Two Parties Concerned Implore The Benediction Of Heaven Because To Promise To Love Each Other Forever Is The Rashest Of Enterprises.

An Ugly Woman, Married To King Henry Viii, Would Have Defied The Axe And Daunted Her Husband's Infidelities.

Life In Clubs Is No Paltry Sign Of The Times We Live In. Here Gentlemen Gamble With Others Whom They Would Not Dream Of Inviting To Their Homes.

A Sacrament By Virtue Of Which Each Imparts Nothing But Vexations To The Other.

Modesty Is The Conscience Of The Body.

We Must Have Books For Recreation And Entertainment, As Well As Books For Instruction And For Business; The Former Are Agreeable, The Latter Useful, And The Human Mind Requires Both. The Cannon Law And The Codes Of Justinian Shall Have Due Honor, And Reign At The Universities; But Homer And Virgil Need Not Therefore Be Banished. We Will Cultivate The Olive And The Vine, But Without Eradicating The Myrtle And The Rose.

The Fashions We Call English In Paris Are French In London, And Vice Versa. Franco-british Hostility Vanishes When It Comes To Questions Of Words And Clothing. God Save The King Is A Tune Composed By Lully For A Chorus In A Play By Racine.

The Woman Who Is About To Deceive Her Husband Always Carefully Thinks Out How She Is Going To Act, But She Is Never Logical.

When In Turkey, Do As The Turkeys Do.

Self-interest Is An Ineffable Feeling Which Shall Follow Us Into God's Very Presence Since They Say There Is A Hierarchy Even Among The Holy Saints.

We Have Long Struggles With Ourself, Of Which The Outcome Is One Of Our Actions; They Are, As It Were, The Inner Side Of Human Nature. This Inner Side Is God's; The Outer Side Belongs To Men.

The Smallest Flower Is A Thought, A Life Answering To Some Feature Of The Great Whole, Of Whom They Have A Persistent Intuition.

Thinking Is Seeing.... Every Human Science Is Based On Deduction, Which Is A Slow Process Of Seeing By Which We Work Up From The Effect To The Cause; Or, In A Wider Sense, All Poetry Like Every Work Of Art Proceeds From A Swift Vision Of Things.

A Husband And Wife Who Are In The Habit Of Occupying Separate Rooms Are Either Beings Apart, Or They Have Found Happiness. Either They Hate Or They Adore Each Other.

Found Happiness

L'amour N'est Pas Seulement Un Sentiment, Il Est Un Art Aussi. Love Is Not Only A Feeling; It Is Also An Art.

Our Most Bitter Enemies Are Our Own Kith And Kin. Kings Have No Brothers, No Sons, No Mother!

When Religion And Royalty Are Swept Away, The People Will Attack The Great, And After The Great, They Will Fall Upon The Rich.

Remorse Is Impotent; It Will Repeat Its Faults. Repentance Only Is A True Force; It Puts An End To Everything.

Nothing So Fortifies A Friendship As A Belief On The Part Of One Friend That He Is Superior To The Other.

Imaginative, Sanguine Men Will Never Recognize That In Negotiations The Most Dangerous Moment Of All Is When Everything Is Moving According To Their Wishes.

Perhaps It Is Only Human Nature To Inflict Suffering On Anything That Will Endure Suffering, Whether By Reason Of Its Genuine Humility, Or Indifference, Or Sheer Helplessness.

Do You Know How A Man Makes His Way Here? By Brilliant Genius Or By Skilful Corruption. You Must Either Cut Your Way Through These Masses Of Men Like A Cannon Ball, Or Steal Among Them Like A Plague.

Love Is Like Some Fresh Spring, First A Stream And Then A River, Changing Its Aspect And Its Nature As It Flows To Plunge Itself In Some Boundless Ocean, Where Restricted Natures Only Find Monotony, But Where Great Souls Are Engulfed In Endless Contemplation.

If You Are To Judge A Man, You Must Know His Secret Thoughts, Sorrows, And Feelings; To Know Merely The Outward Events Of A Man's Life Would Only Serve To Make A Chronological Table-a Fool's Notion Of History.

Women See Everything Or Nothing According To The Inclination Of Their Hearts. Love Is Their Sole Light.

Our Worst Misfortunes Never Happen, And Most Miseries Lie In Anticipation.

La Femme Marie E Est Un Esclave Qu'il Faut Savoir Mettre Sur Un Tro" N E. A Married Woman Is A Slave Whom One Must Put On A Throne.

What Moralists Describe As The Mysteries Of The Human Heart Are Solely The Deceiving Thoughts, The Spontaneous Impulses Of Self-regard. The Sudden Changes In Character, About Which So Much Has Been Said, Are Instinctive Calculations For The Furtherance Of Our Own Pleasures. Seeing Himself Now In His Fine Clothes, His New Gloves And Shoes, Eugène De Rastignac Forgot His Noble Resolve. Youth, When It Swerves Toward Wrong, Dares Not Look In The Mirror Of Conscience; Maturity Has Already Seen Itself There. That Is The Whole Difference Between The Two Phases Of Life.

A Girl's Coquetry Is Of The Simplest, She Thinks That All Is Said When The Veil Is Laid Aside; A Woman's Coquetry Is Endless, She Shrouds Herself In Veil After Veil, She Satisfies Every Demand Of Man's Vanity, The Novice Responds But To One.

Time Is The Only Capital Of Those Who Just Have Their Inteligence As Fortune.

A Deist Is An Atheist With An Eye Cocked For The Off-chance Of Some Advantage.

A Husband And Wife Who Have Separate Bedrooms Have Either Drifted Apart Or Found Happiness.

Found Happiness

He's Got His Dog Trained So That It Only Does It On Newspapers. The Trouble Is It Does It When He's Reading The Blasted Things.

Women Are Always True, Even In The Midst Of Their Greatest Falsities, Because They Are Always Influenced By Some Natural Feeling.

Ah! The Soft Starlight Of Virgin Eyes.

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.

With Every One, The Expectation Of A Misfortune Constitutes A Dreadful, Punishment. Suffering Then Assumes The Proportions Of The Unknown, Which Is The Soul's Infinite.

Love Or Hatred Must Constantly Increase Between Two Persons Who Are Always Together; Every Moment Fresh Reasons Are Found For Loving Or Hating Better.

One Admirable Trait In Women Is Their Lack Of Illusions About Themselves. They Never Reason About Their Most Blameworthy Actions; Their Feelings Carry Them Away. Even Their Dissimulation Comes Naturally To Them, And In Them Crime Is Free Of All Baseness. Most Of The Time They Simply Do Not Know How It Happened.

Passion Is Born Deaf And Dumb.

I Yield To Your Wishes. It Is The Privilege Of The Women Whom We Love More Than They Love Us To Make The Men Who Love Them Ignore The Ordinary Rules Of Common-sense.

Friendships Last When Each Friend Thinks He Has A Slight Superiority Over The Other.

A Penniless Man Who Has No Ties To Bind Him Is Master Of Himself At Any Rate, But A Luckless Wretch Who Is In Love No Longer Belongs To Himself, And May Not Take His Own Life. Love Makes Us Almost Sacred In Our Own Eyes; It Is The Life Of Another That We Revere Within Us; Then And So Begins For Us The Cruelest Trouble Of All.

The Life Of A Man Who Deliberately Runs Through His Fortune Often Becomes A Business Speculation; His Friends, His Pleasures, Patrons, And Acquaintances Are His Capital.

True Love Rules Especially Through Memory.

Passions Are No More Forgiving Than Human Laws And They Reason More Justly. Are They Not Based On A Conscience Of Their Own, Infallible As An Instinct?

Danger Arouses Interest. Where Death Is Involved, The Vilest Criminal Invariably Stirs A Little Compassion.

Above All Do Not Ask That Justice Be Just: It Is Just, Because It Is Justice. The Idea Of A Just Justice Could Have Originated Only In The Brain Of An Anarchist.

In Paris Every Man Must Have Had A Love Affair. What Woman Wants Something That No Other Woman Ever Wanted.

Nos Beaux Sentiments Ne Sont-ils Pas Les Poe Sies De La Volonte ? Aren't Our Best Feelings Poetry Of The Will?

Tradesmen Regard An Author With A Mixed Feeling Of Terror, Compassion And Curiosity.

Women Are As They Are; They Necessarily Have The Defects Of Their Virtues.

There Are Words Which Cut Like Steel.

Innocence Alone Dares Commit Certain Acts Of Audacity. Virtue, When Tutored, Is As Calculating As Vice.

Such Is Life. It Is No Cleaner Than A Kitchen; It Reeks Like A Kitchen; And If You Mean To Cook Your Dinner, You Must Expect To Soil Your Hands; The Real Art Is In Getting Them Clean Again, And Therein Lies The Whole Morality Of Our Epoch.

In Love, What A Woman Mistakes For Disgust Is Actually Clearsightedness. If She Does Not Admire A Man, She Scorns Him.

Yes, I Can Understand That A Man Might Go To A Gambling Table When He Sees That All That Lies Between Him And Death Is His Last Crown.

Vice Is Perhaps A Desire To Learn Everything.

Desire To Learn

Women Are Tenacious, And All Of Them Should Be Tenacious Of Respect; Without Esteem They Cannot Exist; Esteem Is The First Demand That They Make Of Love.

The Future Of A Nation Lies In The Hands Of Mothers.

Study Lends A Kind Of Enchantment To All Our Surroundings.

For The Person Who Loves God, Worship Is The Daily Bread Of Patience.

Woman Is A Most Charming Creature, Who Changes Her Heart As Easily As She Does Her Gloves.

A Monster Which Devours Everything - That Is Familiarity.

Ah! How Much A Mother Learns From Her Child! The Constant Protection Of A Helpless Being Forces Us To So Strict An Alliance With Virtue, That A Woman Never Shows To Full Advantage Except As A Mother. Then Alone Can Her Character Expand In The Fulfillment Of All Life's Duties And The Enjoyment Of All Its Pleasures.

Marriageable Girls As Well As Mothers Understand The Terms And Perils Of The Lottery Called Wedlock. That Is Why Women Weep At A Wedding And Men Smile.

When Law Becomes Despotic, Morals Are Relaxed, And Vice Versa.

The Privilege Of Feeling At Home Everywhere Belongs Only To Kings, Wolves And Robbers.

How Did You Get Back?' Asked Vautrin. 'i Walked,' Replied Eugene. 'i Wouldn't Like Half-pleasures, Myself,' Observed The Tempter. 'i'd Want To Go There In My Own Carriage, Have My Own Box, And Come Back In Comfort. All Or Nothing, That's My Motto.' 'and A Very Good One,' Said Madame Vauquer.

To Say To A Rich Man: You Are Poor! Is To Tell The Archbishop Of Granada That His Sermons Are Worthless.

It Is The Mark Of A Great Man That He Puts To Flight All Ordinary Calculations. He Is At Once Sublime And Touching, Childlike And Of The Race Of Giants.

Women? In Order To Realize How Far These Charming Creatures We Idealize Can Carry Their Cruelty, We Must See Them Among Themselves!

The Most Real Of All Splendors Are Not In Outward Things, They Are Within Us.

[raphael's] Great Superiority Is Due To The Instinctive Sense Which, In Him, Seems To Desire To Shatter Form. Form Is, In His Figures, What It Is In Ourselves, An Interpreter For The Communication Of Ideas And Sensations, An Exhaustless Source Of Poetic Inspiration. Every Figure Is A World In Itself, A Portrait Of Which The Original Appeared In A Sublime Vision, In A Flood Of Light, Pointed To By An Inward Voice, Laid Bare By A Divine Finger Which Showed What The Sources Of Expression Had Been In The Whole Past Life Of The Subject.

We Exaggerate Misfortune And Happiness Alike. We Are Never As Bad Off Or As Happy As We Say We Are.

Exaggeration Is

The First Thing Necessary To Win The Heart Of A Woman Is Opportunity.

She Who Is Really A Wife, One In Heart, Flesh, And Bone, Must Follow Wherever He Leads, In Whom Her Life, Her Strength, Her Pride, And Happiness Are Centered.

Vulgar Souls Look Hastily And Superficially At The Sea And Accuse It Of Monotony; Other More Privileged Beings Could Spend A Lifetime Admiring It And Discovering New And Changing Phenomena That Delight Them. So It Is With Love.

A Grass Blade Believes That Men Build Palaces For It To Grow In. Grass Wedges Its Way Between The Closest Blocks Of Marble And It Brings Them Down. This Power Of Feeble Life Which Can Creep In Anywhere Is Greater Than That Of The Mighty Behind Their Cannons.

Squeeze Marriage As Much As You Like, You Will Never Extract Anything From It But Fun For Bachelors And Boredom For Husbands.

There Are Houses In Certain Provincial Towns Whose Aspect Inspires Melancholy, Akin To That Called Forth By Sombre Cloisters, Dreary Moorlands, Or The Desolation Of Ruins. Within These Houses There Is, Perhaps, The Silence Of The Cloister, The Barrenness Of Moors, The Skeleton Of Ruins; Life And Movement Are So Stagnant There That A Stranger Might Think Them Uninhabited, Were It Not That He Encounters Suddenly The Pale, Cold Glance Of A Motionless Person, Whose Half-monastic Face Peers Beyond The Window-casing At The Sound Of An Unaccustomed Step.

I'm A Great Poet. I Don't Put My Poems On Paper: They Consist Of Actions And Feelings.

Whereas Scoundrels Become Reconciled After Knifing One Another, Lovers Break Up Irrevocably Over A Mere Glance Or Word.

Let Us Leave The Cure Of Public Evils To Those Quacks, The Statesmen.

If We Study Nature Attentively In Its Great Evolutions As In Its Minutest Works, We Cannot Fail To Recognize The Possibility Of Enchantment - Giving To That Word Its Exact Significance.

Passion Is Universal Humanity. Without It Religion, History, Romance And Art Would Be Useless.

Power Is Not Revealed By Striking Hard Or Often, But By Striking True.

Beaucoup D'hommes Ont Un Orgueil Qui Les Pousse A' Cacher Leurs Combats Et A' Ne Se Montrer Que Victorieux. Many Men Have Pride That Causes Them To Hide Their Combats And To Only Show Themselves Victorious.

A Woman Must Be A Genius To Create A Good Husband.

Hatred Is The Vice Of Narrow Souls; They Feed It With All Their Littleness, And Make It The Pretext Of Base Tyrannies.

A Country Is Strong Which Consists Of Wealthy Families, Every Member Of Whom Is Interested In Defending A Common Treasure; It Is Weak When Composed Of Scattered Individuals, To Whom It Matters Little Whether They Obey Seven Or One, A Russian Or A Corsican, So Long As Each Keeps His Own Plot Of Land, Blind In Their Wretched Egotism, To The Fact That The Day Is Coming When This Too Will Be Torn From Them.

The Victory Always Has A Lot Of Parents But The Defeat Is Always An Orphan.

Marriage Must Fight Constantly Against A Monster Which Devours Everything: Routine.

No Man Has Ever Yet Discovered The Way To Give Friendly Advice To Any Woman, Not Even To His Own Wife.

He Who Best Knows The World Will Love It Least.

All Human Power Is A Compound Of Time And Patience.

On The Moral Plane, True Friends Enjoy The Same Protection As The Sense Of Smell Confers Upon Dogs. They Scent The Sorrow Of Their Friends, They Divine Its Causes, And They Clasp It To Their Minds And Hearts.

It Is Easier For A Woman To Be A Good Wife Than A Good Mother. A Widow Has Two Duties With Contrary Obligations: She Is A Mother And She Must Exercise Paternal Authority. Few Woman Are Strong Enough To Understand And To Play This Role.

Among Fifty Percent Of Your Married Couples, The Husband Worries Very Little About What His Wife Is Doing, Provided She Is Doing All He Wishes.

When There Is An Old Maid In The House, A Watchdog Is Unnecessary.

Hope Is A Memory That Desires, The Memory Is A Memory That Has Enjoyed.

Conventions Are Often More Cruel Than The Law.

Love Has Its Own Instinct, Finding The Way To The Heart, As The Feeblest Insect Finds The Way To Its Flower, With A Will Which Nothing Can Dismay Nor Turn Aside.

Love Which Economizes Is Never True Love.

A Married Woman Is A Slave You Must Know How To Seat Upon A Throne.

A Woman In Love Has Full Intelligence Of Her Power; The More Virtuous She Is, The More Effective Her Coquetry.

The Boor Covers Himself, The Rich Man Or The Fool Adorns Himself, And The Elegant Man Gets Dressed.

We Are Scarcely Apt To Berate The Source Of Enjoyment.

The Virtues We Acquire, Which Develop Slowly Within Us, Are The Invisible Links That Bind Each One Of Our Existences To The Others - Existences Which The Spirit Alone Remembers, For Matter Has No Memory For Spiritual Things.

Gentleness In The Gait Is What Simplicity Is In The Dress. Violent Gestures Or Quick Movements Inspire Involuntary Disrespect.

Lofty Souls Are Always Inclined To Make A Virtue Of Misfortune.

Marriage Must Perforce Fight Against The All-devouring Monster Of Habit.

Once She Has Committed Sin, There Is Nothing Left For The Protestant Woman, Whereas The Catholic Church, Hope Of Forgiveness Makes A Woman Sublime.

Virtue, My Pet, Is An Abstract Idea, Varying In Its Manifestations With The Surroundings. Virtue In Provence, In Constantinople, In London, And In Paris Bears Very Different Fruit, But Is None The Less Virtue.

When Women Love, They Forgive Everything...

Wisdom Is That Apprehension Of Heavenly Things To Which The Spirit Rises Through Love.

Sensuality Is The Death Of The Soul.

Our Souls Possess The Unknown Power Of Extending As Well As Contracting Space.

Even Beauty Cannot Always Palliate Eccentricity.

Does Anyone Know Where These Gondolas Of Paris Come From? [fr., Ne Sait On Pas Ou Viennent Ces Gondoles Parisiennes?]

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.

Glory Is A Poison, Good To Be Taken In Small Doses.

Men Are So Made That They Can Resist Sound Argument, And Yet Yield To A Glance.

All We Are Is In The Soul.

A Man's Own Vanity Is A Swindler That Never Lacks For A Dupe.

Rich Men Are Resolved To Be Astonished At Nothing. When They See A Masterpiece, They Must Needs At One Glance Recognize Some Flaw To Dispense Them From Admiration, A Vulgar Emotion.

Give To A Wounded Heart Seclusion; Consolation Nor Reason Ever Effected Anything In Such A Case.

Clouds Signify The Veil Of The Most High.

Grief Ennobles The Commonest People Because It Has Its Own Essential Grandeur. To Shine With The Luster Of Grief, A Person Need Only Be Sincere.

People Who Climb From One Rung Of Society To Another Can Never Do Anything Simply.

In France We Can Cauterize Wounds But We Do Not Yet Know Any Remedy For The Injuries Inflicted By A Bon Mot.

Women Are Ever The Dupes Or The Victims Of Their Extreme Sensitiveness.

Imagination Helps The Realism Of Every Detail, And Only Sees The Beauties Of The Work.

Now Literary Success Can Only Be Won In Solitude By Persevering Labor.

Nothing Is Irredeemably Ugly But Sin.

Fools Gain Greater Advantages Through Their Weakness Than Intelligent Men Through Their Strength. We Watch A Great Man Struggling Against Fate And We Do Not Lift A Finger To Help Him. But We Patronize A Grocer Who Is Headed For Bankruptcy.

Want Him To Be More Of A Man? Try Being More Of A Woman!

Jealousy, An Eminently Credulous And Suspicious Passion, Allows Fancy The Greatest Possible Play. But It Does Not Bestow Wit, It Banishes All Sense.

We Must Certainly Acknowledge That Solitude Is A Fine Thing; But It Is A Pleasure To Have Some One Who Can Answer, And To Whom We Can Say, From Time To Time, That Solitude Is A Fine Thing.

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.

An Unfulfilled Vocation Drains The Color From A Man's Entire Existence.

The Causes That Govern The Heart Appear To Be Wholly Alien To The Results Achieved. Are The Forces That Moved A Desperate Criminal The Same That Fill A Martyr With Pride, As Both Mount The Scaffold?

In Paris, When Certain People See You Ready To Set Your Foot In The Stirrup, Some Pull Your Coat-tails, Others Loosen The Buckle Of The Strap That You May Fall And Crack Your Skull; One Wrenches Off Your Horse's Shoes, Another Steals Your Whip, And The Least Treacherous Of Them All Is The Man Whom You See Coming To Fire His Pistol At You Point Blank.

If Youth Were Not Ignorant And Timid, Civilization Would Be Impossible.

Most Geometricians, Chemists, Mathematicians, And Great Scientists Submit Religion To Reason Only To Discover A Problem As Unsolvable As That Of Squaring A Circle.

The Habits Of Every Animal Are, At Least In The Eyes Of Man, Constantly Similar In All Ages. But The Habits, The Clothes, The Words And The Dwelling Of A Prince, A Banker, An Artist, A Bourgeois, A Priest And A Pauper, Are Wholly Dissimilar And Change At The Will Of Civilizations.

Great Love Affairs Start With Champagne And End With Tisane.

What Makes Friendship Indissolute And What Doubles Its Charms Is A Feeling We Find Lacking In Love: I Mean Certitude.

Nothing Is So Discreet As A Young Face, For Nothing Is Less Mobile; It Has The Serenity, The Surface Smoothness, And The Freshnessof A Lake. There Is No Character In Women's Faces Before The Age Of Thirty.

A Lui La Foi, A' Elle Le Doute, A' Elle Le Fardeau Le Plus Lourd: La Femme Ne Souffre-t-elle Pas Toujours Pour Deux? For Him, Faith; For Her, Doubt And For Her Theheavier Load: Does Not The Woman Always Suffer For Both?

Man Can Start With Aversion And End With Love, But If He Begins With Love And Comes Round To Aversion He Will Never Get Back To Love.

Man Is No Match For Woman Where Mischief Reigns.

One Hour Of Love Has A Whole Life In It.

Love Is The Only Way On Which Even The Dim-witted Reaches Certain Heights.

Creole Women Take After Europe In Their Intelligence, After The Tropics In The Illogical Violence Of Their Passions, And After The Indies In The Apathetic Indolence With Which They Commit Or Suffer Good And Evil.

From The Manner In Which A Woman Draws Her Thread At Every Stitch Of Her Needlework, Any Other Woman Can Surmise Her Thoughts.

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.

Men Die In Despair, While Spirits Die In Ecstasy.

Authentic Love Always Assumes The Mystery Of Modesty, Even In Its Expression, Because Actions Speak Louder Than Words. Unlike A Feigned Love, It Feels No Need To Set A Conflagration.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

The Secret Of A Great Success For Which You Are At A Loss To Account Is A Crime That Has Never Been Found Out, Because It Was Properly Executed.

Conscience Is A Cudgel Which All Men Pick Up In Order To Thwack Their Neighbors Instead Of Applying It To Their Own Shoulders.

With Monuments As With Men, Position Means Everything.

Nothing Is Unimportant To A Man Plunged In Despair. He Is As Credulous As A Criminal Sentenced To Death Who Listens To A Lunatic Raving To Him About How He Can Escape Through The Keyhole.

Our Happiness Often Depends Upon Social Hypocrisies To Which We Will Never Stoop.

In A Husband, There Is Only A Man; In A Married Woman, There Is A Man, A Father, A Mother And A Woman.

Numbers Are Intellectual Witnesses That Belong Only To Mankind.

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