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A Woman In The Depths Of Despair Proves So Persuasive That She Wrenches The Forgiveness Lurking Deep In The Heart Of Her Lover. This Is All The More True When That Woman Is Young, Pretty, And So Decollete As To Emerge From The Neck Of Her Gown In The Costume Of Eve.

-Honore De Balzac

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A Woman In The

Honore De Balzac

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A Woman In The Depths Of Despair Proves So Persuasive That She Wrenches The Forgiveness Lurking Deep In The Heart Of Her Lover. This Is All The More True When That Woman Is Young, Pretty, And So Decollete As To Emerge From The Neck Of Her Gown In The Costume Of Eve.

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The Habits Of Life Form The Soul, And The Soul Forms The Physical Presence.

The Secret Of Great Fortunes Without Apparent Cause Is A Crime Forgotten, For It Was Properly Done.

A Mother Who Is Really A Mother Is Never Free.

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

It Is Beyond A Doubt That During The Sixteenth Century, And The Years Immediately Preceding And Following It, Poisoning Had Been Brought To A Pitch Of Perfection Which Remains Unknown To Modern Chemistry, But Which Is Indisputably Proved By History. Italy, The Cradle Of Modern Science, Was At That Time, The Inventor And Mistress Of These Secrets, Many Of Which Are Lost.

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

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

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 Are Words Which Cut Like Steel.

Between The Daylight Gambler And The Player At Night There Is The Same Difference That Lies Between A Careless Husband And The Lover Swooning Under His Lady's Window.

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

The Endless Legacy Of The Past To The Present Is The Secret Source Of Human Genius.

A Man Who Stops At Nothing Short Of The Law Is Very Clever Indeed!

Materialism And Spirituality Are Two Pretty Racquets With Which Charlatans In Cap And Gown Make The Same Ball Fly.

Misfortune, No Less Than Happiness, Inspires Us To Dream.

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.

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

Women Themselves Are So Happy, And So Beautiful, When They're Strong, That They Naturally Choose Powerful Men, Even If That Power's So Enermous There's A Real Risk It Could Shatter Them.

It Is Easy To Sit Up And Take Notice, What Is Difficult Is Getting Up And Taking Action.

To Promote Laughter Without Joining In It Greatly Heightens The Effect.

There Are No Little Events With The Heart. It Magnifies Everything; It Places In The Same Scales The Fall Of An Empire Of Fourteen Years And The Dropping Of A Woman's Glove, And Almost Always The Glove Weighs More Than The Empire.

Woman Is Stronger By Virtue Of Her Feelings Than Man By Virtue Of His Power.

What Moralist Can Deny That Well-bred And Vicious People Are Much More Agreeable Than Their Virtuous Counterparts? Having Crimes To Atone For, They Provisionally Solicit Indulgence By Showing Leniency Toward The Defects Of Their Judges. Thus They Pass For Excellent Folk.

What Is Motherhood Save Nature In Her Most Gladsome Mood?

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.

Thinking Of You

There Are As Many Mediocrities Exalted Through Pity As Masters Decried Through Envy.

A Young Bride Is Like A Plucked Flower; But A Guilty Wife Is Like A Flower That Had Been Walked Over.

Love Is The Most Melodious Of All Harmonies.

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

Some Day You Will Find Out That There Is Far More Happiness In Another's Happiness Than In Your Own.

Science Is The Language Of The Temporal World; Love Is That Of The Spiritual World. Man, Indeed, Describes More Than He Explains; While The Angelic Spirit Sees And Understands. Science Saddens Man; Love Enraptures The Angel; Science Is Still Seeking; Love Has Found.

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

The Man Who Enters His Wife's Dressing Room Is Either A Philosopher Or A Fool.

One Should Believe In Marriage As In The Immortality Of The Soul.

A Grocer Is Attracted To His Business By A Magnetic Force As Great As The Repulsion Which Renders It Odious To Artists.

Society Bristles With Enigmas Which Look Hard To Solve. It Is A Perfect Maze Of Intrigue.

Equality May Be The Law, But No Human Power Can Install It.

Sensuality Is The Death Of The Soul.

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.

The National Budget Is Not A Safe-deposit Box. It Is A Spray Can.

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.

The Art Of Motherhood Involves Much Silent, Unobtrusive Self-denial, An Hourly Devotion Which Finds No Detail Too Minute.

Though Your Vulgarian Does Not Readily Admit That Feelings Can Change Overnight, Certainly Two Lovers Often Part Far More Abruptly Than They Came Together.

A Woman In The Depths Of Despair Proves So Persuasive That She Wrenches The Forgiveness Lurking Deep In The Heart Of Her Lover. This Is All The More True When That Woman Is Young, Pretty, And So Decollete As To Emerge From The Neck Of Her Gown In The Costume Of Eve.

Nothing About Me Surprises Me.

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

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.

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.

The World Will Avenge Itself Upon All Happiness In Which It Has No Share.

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.

Ideas Devour The Ages As Men Are Devoured By Their Passions. When Man Is Cured, Human Nature Will Cure Itself Perhaps.

Your Modest Savant Smiles As He Says To His Admirers: What Have I Done? Nothing. Man Does Not Invent A Force, He Directs It.

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.

Modern Society Includes Three Types Of Men Who Can Never Think Very Highly Of The World--the Priest, The Physician, And The Attorney-at-law. They All Wear Black, Too, For Are They Not In Mourning For Every Virtue And Every Illusion?

Man Is No Match For Woman Where Mischief Reigns.

But Does Not Happiness Come From The Soul Within?

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

Lovers Have A Way Of Using This Word "nothing" Which Implies Exactly The Opposite.

We Cannot Confront Solitude Without Moral Resources.

There Are Moments In Life When All We Can Bear Is The Sense That Our Friend Is Near Us; Our Wounds Would Wince At The Touch Of Consoling Words, That Would Reveal The Depths Of Our Pain.

Discouragement Is Of All Ages: In Youth It Is A Presentiment, In Old Age A Remembrance.

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

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

For The Journalist, Anything Probable Is Gospel Truth.

The Love Of Nature Is The Only Love That Does Not Deceive Human Hopes.

There Is A Cure For Temptation. What? Yielding To It.

By Resorting To Self-resignation, The Unfortunate Consummate.

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

Everybody All Over The World Takes A Wife's Estimate Into Account In Forming An Opinion Of A Man.

Evasion Is Unworthy Of Us, And Is Always The Intimate Of Equivocation.

Sometimes At The Best Moments A Single Word Or A Look Is Enough.'

Modern Reformers Offer Nebulous Theories Or Write Philanthropic Novels. But Your Thief Acts! He Is As Clear As A Fact And As Logical As A Punch On The Nose! And What A Style He Has!

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.

A Monster Which Devours Everything - That Is Familiarity.

Marriage Is A Fight To The Death, Before Which The Wedded Couple Ask A Blessing From Heaven, Because It Is The Rashest Of All Undertakings To Swear Eternal Love; The Fight At Once Commences And Victory, That Is To Say Liberty, Remains In The Hands Of The Cleverer Of The Two.

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

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.

I Am Not Deep, But I Am Very Wide.

[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.

Our Energies Are Often Stimulated By The Necessity Of Supporting A Being Weaker Than Ourselves.

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

This Coffee Falls Into Your Stomach, And Straightway There Is A General Commotion. Ideas Begin To Move Like The Battalions Of The Grand Army Of The Battlefield, And The Battle Takes Place. Things Remembered Arrive At Full Gallop, Ensuing To The Wind. The Light Cavalry Of Comparisons Deliver A Magnificent Deploying Charge, The Artillery Of Logic Hurry Up With Their Train And Ammunition, The Shafts Of With Start Up Like Sharpshooters. Similes Arise, The Paper Is Covered With Ink; For The Struggle Commences And Is Concluded With Torrents Of Black Water, Just As A Battle With Powder.

When One Has No Particular Talent For Anything, One Takes To The Pen.

Women, When They Have Made A Sheep Of A Man, Always Tell Him That He Is A Lion With A Will Of Iron.

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.

Those Who Spend Too Fast Never Grow Rich.

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.

I Do Not Regard A Broker As A Member Of The Human Race.

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

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!

Un Mari, Comme Un Gouvernement, Ne Doit Jamais Avouer De Faute. A Husband, Like A Government, Never Needs To Admit A Fault.

A Man Is A Poor Creature Compared To A Woman.

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

Physically, A Man Is A Man For A Much Longer Time Than A Woman Is A Woman.

There Is Nothing Original; All Is Reflected Light.

In Diving To The Bottom Of Pleasure We Bring Up More Gravel Than Pearls.

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

Does Not Any Limit Imposed Upon One Inspire A Desire To Go Beyond It? Does Not Our Keenest Suffering Arise When Our Free Will Is Crossed?

Death Is As Unexpected In His Caprice As A Courtesan In Her Disdain; But Death Is Truer – Death Has Never Forsaken Any Man

A Wife Is Property That One Acquires By Contract, She Is Transferable, Because Possession Of Her Requires Title; In Fact, Woman Is, So To Speak, Only Man's Appendage; Consequently, Slice, Cut, Clip Her, You Have All Rights To Her.

Six Weeks With A Fever Is An Eternity.

A Great Love Is A Credit Opened In Favor Of A Power So Consuming That The Moment Of Bankruptcy Must Inevitably Occur.

What Is A Child, Monsieur, But The Image Of Two Beings, The Fruit Of Two Sentiments Spontaneously Blended?

Woman Has This In Common With Angels, That Suffering Beings Belong Especially To Her.

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.

The Greater A Man's Talents, The More Marked His Idiosyncracies. Yet In The Provinces Originality Is Considered Perilously Close To Lunacy.

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

All Poetry Like Every Work Of Art Proceeds From A Swift Vision Of Things.

The Majority Of Husbands Remind Me Of An Orangutan Trying To Play The Violin.

Most Women Wish To Feel That Their Spirit Has Been Violated. Do They Not, Indeed, Flatter Themselves On Never Yielding Save To Force?

Reading Brings Us Unknown Friends

Conviction Brings A Silent, Indefinable Beauty Into Faces Made Of The Commonest Human Clay; The Devout Worshiper At Any Shrine Reflects Something Of Its Golden Glow, Even As The Glory Of A Noble Love Shines Like A Sort Of Light From A Woman's Face.

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.

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

God Reveals Himself, Unfailingly, To The Solitary, Thoughtful Seeker

Society Proceeds Like The Ocean. After A Disaster, It Resume Its Wonted Level And Rhythms; Its Devouring Interests Efface All Traces Of Damage.

The Greatest Tyranny Is To Love I Where We Are Not Loved Again.

The More One Judges, The Less One Loves.

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

Le Mariage Doit Incessamment Combattre Un Monstre Qui De V Ore Tout: L'habitude. Marriage Should Always Combat The Monster That Devours Everything: Habit.

During The Great Storms Of Our Lives We Imitate Those Captains Who Jettison Their Weightiest Cargo.

Power Does Not Consist In Striking With Force Or With Frequency, But In Striking True.

How Sternly We Reproach Virtue For Its Failings, How Indulgent We Are To The Better Qualities Of Vice!

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

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

Old Men Are Prone To Invest The Futures Of Young Men With Their Own Past Sorrows.

The Passion Of Love Is Essentially Selfish, While Motherhood Widens The Circle Of Our Feelings.

Gratitude Is A Fool's Word; We Find It In The Dictionary, But It Is Not In The Heart Of Man.

Old Maids Claw As Cats Do. They Not Only Inflict Wounds But Experience Pleasure In Doing So. Nor Will They Fail To Remind Their Victims Of The Blood Drawn.

Noble Passions Are Like Vices: The More They Are Satisfied, The Greater They Grow, Mothers And Gamblers Are Insatiable.

Glory And Fame Mean Twelve Thousand Francs' Worth Of Paid Articles In The Newspapers And Five Thousand Crowns' Worth Of Dinners.

Are Not Our Noblest Feelings As It Were The Poems Of Our Will.

Music Is Of Two Kinds: One Petty, Poor, Second-rate, Never Varying, Its Base The Hundred Or So Phrasings Which All Musicians Understand, A Babbling Which Is More Or Less Pleasant, The Life That Most Composers Live.

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.

It's Catastrophies Which Turn Wise And Strong People Into Philosophers.

All Happiness Depends On Courage And Work.

To Speak Of Love Is To Make Love.

Emulation Is Not Rivalry. Emulation Is The Child Of Ambition; Rivalry Is The Unlovable Daughter Of Envy.

All Genuinely Noble Women Prefer Truth To Falsehood. As The Russians With Their Czar, They Are Unwilling To See Their Idol Degraded; They Want To Be Proud Of The Domination They Accept.

One Exits With One's Husband -- One Lives With One's Lover.

People Who Are In Love Suspect Nothing Or Everything.

The Secret Of Great Fortunes Without Apparent Cause Is A Crime Forgotten, Forgotten Because It Was Properly Done.

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

A Murderer Is Less Loathsome To Us Than A Spy. The Murderer May Have Acted On A Sudden Mad Impulse; He May Be Penitent And Amend; But A Spy Is Always A Spy, Night And Day, In Bed, At Table, As He Walks Abroad; His Vileness Pervades Every Moment Of His Life

Nature Endows Woman Alternately With A Particular Strength Which Helps Her To Suffer And A Weakness Which Counsels Her To Be Resigned.

All Human Beings Go Through A Previous Life... Who Knows How Many Fleshly Forms The Heir Of Heaven Occupies Before He Can Be Brought To Understand The Value Of That Silence And Solitude Of Spiritual Worlds?

Today Nobility Is Gone: There Is Only A Peerage.

A Rent In Your Clothes Is A Mishap, A Stain On Them Is A Vice.

Isn't It Really Quite Extraordinary To See That, Since Man Took His First Step, No One Has Asked Himself Why He Walks, How He Walks, If He Has Ever Walked, If He Could Walk Better, What He Achieves In Walking .. Questions That Are Tied To All The Philosophical, Psychological, And Political Systems Which Preoccupy The World.

But Woman Brings Disorder Into Society Through Passion.

Believe Everything You Hear Said Of The World; Nothing Is Too Impossibly Bad.

A Letter Is A Soul, So Faithful An Echo Of The Speaking Voice That To The Sensitive It Is Among The Richest Treasures Of Love.

To Feel, To Love, To Suffer, To Devote Herself, Will Always Be The Text Of The Life Of Woman.

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.

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

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.

To Those Who Have Exhausted Politics, Nothing Remains But Abstract Thought.

Men Die In Despair, While Spirits Die In Ecstasy.

For Avarice Begins Where Poverty Ends.

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.

Constancy Will Always Be The Genius Of Love, The Indication Of That Strength Which Constitutes The Poet. A Man Should Possess All Women In His Wife, Like Those Squalid Poetasters Of The Seventeenth Century Who Made Fair Irises And Dazzling Chloes Of Their Lowly Manons.

There Is Something Great And Terrible About Suicide.

To Get A Traveling Salesman Drunk Is The Height Of Impossibility.

Many Men Nourish A Pride Which Urges Them To Conceal Their Struggles And Show Themselves Only As Conquerors.

Vice Is Perhaps A Desire To Learn Everything.

Desire To Learn

It's Not Enough To Be A Good Person. You Also Have To Show It.

Le Coeur D'une Me' Re Est Un Ab|"me Au Fond Duquel Se Trouve Toujours Un Pardon. A Mother'sheart Isanabyss Atthebottomof Whichthere Is Always Forgiveness.

Sects Differ More In Name Than Tenets.

Death Unites As Well As Separates; It Silences All Paltry Feeling.

Where Some One Else's Welfare Is Concerned, A Young Girl Becomes As Ingenious As A Thief. Guileless Where She Herself Is In Question, And Full Of Foresight For Me,-she Is Like A Heavenly Angel Forgiving The Strange Incomprehensible Sins Of Earth.

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

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

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

The Monotony Of Provincial Life Attracts The Attention Of People To The Kitchen. You Do Not Dine As Luxuriously In The Provinces As In Paris, But You Dine Better, Because The Dishes Serve You Are The Result Of Mediation And Study.

Love Is A Game In Which One Always Cheats.

No Woman Has Ever Existed Who Did Not Know Perfectly Well In Her Heart What To Expect From The Superiority Or Inferiority Of A Rival.

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.

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.

A Woman, Even A Prude, Is Not Long At A Loss, However Dire Her Plight. She Would Seen Always To Have In Hand The Fig Leaf Our Mother Eve Bequeathed To Her.

Love May Be Or It May Not, But Where It Is, It Ought To Reveal Itself In Its Immensity.

The Response Man Has The Greatest Difficulty In Tolerating Is Pity, Especially When He Warrants It. Hatred Is A Tonic, It Makes One Live, It Inspires Vengeance, But Pity Kills, It Makes Our Weakness Weaker.

Alas, Two Men Are Often Necessary To Provide A Woman With A Perfect Lover, Just As In Literature A Writer Composes A Type Only By Employing The Singularities Of Several Similar Characters.

Noble Hearts Are Neither Jealous Nor Afraid Because Jealousy Spells Doubt And Fear Spells Pettiness.

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?

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

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.

Nobody Loves A Woman Because She Is Handsome Or Ugly, Stupid Or Intelligent. We Love Because We Love.

Falling In Love

What Saves The Virtue Of Many A Woman Is That Protecting God, The Impossible.

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

Even Beauty Cannot Always Palliate Eccentricity.

If Those Who Are The Enemies Of Innocent Amusements Had The Direction Of The World, They Would Take Away The Spring, And Youth, The Former From The Year, The Latter From Human Life.

Love Based Upon Money And Vanity Forms The Most Stubborn Of Passions.

The More Illegal A Profit, The More Tenaciously A Man Clings To It.

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

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?

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

All Men Can Bear A Familiar, Definite Misfortune Better Than The Cruel Alternations Of A Fate Which, From One Moment To Another, Brings Excessive Joy Or Sorrow.

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.

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?

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.

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