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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.

-Honore De Balzac

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Love Is Like Some

Honore De Balzac

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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.

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

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!

White Hair Often Covers The Head, But The Heart That Holds It Is Ever Young.

It Is Quite Right What They Say: The Three Most Beautiful Sights In The World Are A Ship In Full Sail, A Galloping Horse, And A Woman Dancing.

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.

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

Necessity Is Often The Spur To Genius.

A Creole Woman Is Like A Child, She Wants To Possess Everything Immediately; Like A Child, She Would Set Fire To A House In Order To Fry An Egg. In Her Languor, She Thinks Of Nothing; When Passionately Aroused, She Thinks Of Any Act Possible Or Impossible.

Economized Love Is Never Real Love.

Vice Is Perhaps A Desire To Learn Everything.

Desire To Learn

Hatred Like Love Feeds On The Merest Trifles. Everything Adds To It. Just As The Being We Love Can Do No Wrong, So The One We Hate Can Do No Right.

Nothing Can Afford A Woman Greater Pleasure Than To Hear Tender Words Of Love. The Strictest, Most Devout Woman Will Listen Even If She Must Not Answer.

There Are Two Histories : Official History, Lying, And Then Secret History, Where You Find The Real Causes Of Events.

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

When She Lives At His Palace, The Maiden Niece Of A Bishop Can Pass For A Respectable Woman Because, If She Has A Love Affair, She Is Obliged To Hoodwink Her Uncle.

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.

It Is Always Assumed By The Empty-headed, Who Chatter About Themselves For Want Of Something Better, That People Who Do Not Discuss Their Affairs Openly Must Have Something To Hide.

No Frozen-hearted Woman Ever I Laid Eyes On But Has Made Duty Her Religion.

To Have One's Mother-in-law In The Country When One Lives In Paris, And Vice Versa, Is One Of Those Strokes Of Luck That One Encounters Only Too Rarely.

Vivacity Is The Health Of The Spirit.

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?

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

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.

God Is The Author, Men Are Only The Players. These Grand Pieces Which Are Played Upon Earth Have Been Composed In Heaven.

A Beautiful Book Is A Victory Won In All The Battlefields Of Human Thought.

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

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.

The Key To All Sciences Is Unquestionably The Question Mark. To The Word How? We Owe Most Of Our Greatest Discoveries. Wisdom In Life May Perhaps Consist In Asking Ourselves On All Occasions: Why?

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

Memories Beautify Life, But The Capacity To Forget Makes It Bearable.

Emulation Admires And Strives To Imitate Great Actions; Envy Is Only Moved To Malice.

Great Love Affairs Start With Champagne And End With Tisane.

Some Troubles, Like A Protested Note Of A Solvent Debtor, Bear Interest.

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

Equality May Be A Right, But No Power On Earth Can Convert It Into Fact.

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.

Remorse Is Impotence, Impotence Which Sins Again. Repentance Alone Is Powerful; It Ends All.

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

No Navigator Has Yet Traced Lines Of Latitude And Longitude On The Conjugal Sea.

Latitude And Longitude

The Press Is Like A Woman: Sublime When It Lies, It Will Not Let Go Until It Has Forced You To Believe It. The Public, Like A Foolish Husband, Always Succumbs.

Envy Lurks At The Bottom Of The Human Heart Like A Viper In Its Hole.

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

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

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

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.

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

To Live In The Presence Of Great Truths And Eternal Laws, To Be Led By Permanent Ideals - That Is What Keeps A Man Patient When The World Ignores Him, And Calm And Unspoiled When The World Praises Him.

There Are Two Kinds Of Poets: Those Who Feel And Those Who Express Themselves. The Former Are Happier.

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

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?

Poets And Men Of Action Differ: The Former Yield To Their Feelings In Order To Reproduce Them In Lively Colors, And Therefore Judge Only Ex Post Facto; The Latter Feel And Judge At One And The Same Time.

When Women Love, They Forgive Everything...

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.

White And Shining Virgin Of All Human Virtues, Ark Of The Covenant Between Earth And Heaven, Tender And Strong Companion Partaking Of The Lion And Of The Lamb, Prayer! Prayer Will Give You The Key Of Heaven! Bold And Pure As Innocence, Strong, Like All That Is Single And Simple, This Glorious, Invincible Queen Rests, Nevertheless, On The Material World; She Takes Possession Of It; Like The Sun, She Clasps It In A Circle Of Light.

There Are Some Women Whose Pregnancy Would Make Some Sly Bachelor Smile.

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.

Virtue Is Always Too Much Of A Piece And Too Ignorant Of Those Shades Of Feeling And Of Temperament That Enable Us To Squint When We Are Placed In A False Position.

Six Weeks With A Fever Is An Eternity.

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

Every Moment Of Happiness Requires A Great Amount Of Ignorance

Moments Of Happiness

The Man As He Converses Is The Lover; Silent, He Is The Husband.

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.

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

A Mother Who Is Really A Mother Is Never Free.

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

Love Is Perhaps No More Than Gratitude For Pleasure.

Foppery, Being The Chronic Condition Of Women, Is Not So Much Noticed As It Is When It Breaks Out On The Person Of The Male Bird.

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.

Glory Is The Sunshine Of The Dead

Clouds Signify The Veil Of The Most High.

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

You May Imitate, But Never Counterfeit.

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

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

The Mind, Too, Has Its Regimen. It Needs Gymnastics, Just Like The Body Does.

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

Resignation Is A Daily Suicide.

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

The Great Secret Of Social Alchemy Is To Profit Best From Each Stage In Our Lives, To Gather All Its Leaves In Spring, All Its Flowers In Summer, And All Its Fruits In Autumn.

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

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.

A Great Writer Is Nothing Less Than A Martyr Who Does Not Die.

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

I Should Like One Of These Days To Be So Well Known, So Popular, So Celebrated, So Famous, That It Would Permit Me . . . To Break Wind In Society, And Society Would Think It A Most Natural Thing.

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

Doubt Follows White-winged Hope With Trembling Steps.

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

For Businessmen, The World Is A Bale Of Banknotes In Circulation; For Most Young Men, It Is A Woman; For Some Women, It Is A Man; And For Others It May Be A Salon, A Coterie, A Part Of Town Or A Whole City.

Nothing About Me Surprises Me.

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

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

You Cannot Pluck Love Out Of Your Heart As You Would Pull A Tooth.

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

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

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

Your Women Of Fashion Ceases To Be A Woman. She Is Neither Mother, Nor Wife, Nor Lover. She Is, Medically Speaking, Sex On The Brain.

Hope Is A Light Diet, But Very Stimulating.

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

The Human Heart May Find Here And There A Resting-place Short Of The Highest Height Of Affection, But We Seldom Stop In The Steep, Downward Slope Of Hatred.

The Country Is Provincial; It Becomes Ridiculous When It Tries To Ape Paris.

One Hour Of Love Has A Whole Life In It.

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

The More You Judge, The Less You Love.

However Gross A Man May Be, The Minute He Expresses A Strong And Genuine Affection, Some Inner Secretion Alters His Features, Animates His Gestures, And Colors His Voice. The Stupidest Man Will Often, Under The Stress Of Passion, Achieve Heights Of Eloquence, In Thought If Not In Language, And Seem To Move In Some Luminous Sphere. Goriot's Voice And Gesture Had At This Moment The Power Of Communication That Characterizes The Great Actor. Are Not Our Finer Feelings The Poems Of The Human Will?

Love And Work Have The Virtues Of Making A Man Pretty Indifferent To Anything Else.

Excess Of Joy Is Harder To Bear Than Any Amount Of Sorrow.

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.

Love Is A Game In Which One Always Cheats.

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

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.

We Love Because We Love.

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

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

When A Woman Wants To Betray Her Husband, Her Actions Are Almost Invariably Studied But They Are Never Reasoned.

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

Towns Find It As Hard As Houses Of Business To Rise Again From Ruin.

Love Is The Most Melodious Of All Harmonies.

Handsome Widows, After A Twelve-month, Enjoy A Latitude And Longitude Without Limit.

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

I Am Not Deep, But I Am Very Wide.

Many Of Us Marvel At The Icy Insensitivity With Which Women Snuff Out Their Armours. But If They Did Not Blot Out The Past In This Manner, Life For Them Would Lose All Dignity And They Could Never Resist The Fatal Familiarities To Which They Once Submitted.

A Society Of Atheists Would Immediately Invent A Religion.

Too Great A Display Of Delicacy Can And Does Sometimes Infringe Upon De-cency.

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

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.

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.

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.

According To Man's Environment, Society Has Made As Many Different Types Of Men As There Are Varieties In Zoology. The Differences Between A Soldier, A Workman, A Statesman, A Tradesman, A Sailor, A Poet, A Pauper And A Priest, Are More Difficult To Seize, But Quite Considerable As The Differences Between A Wolf, A Lion, An Ass, A Crow, A Sea-calf, A Sheep, And So On.

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

Virginity, Like All Monstrosities, Possesses Special Riches And Its Own Absorbing Grandeur. Among The Chaste, Life Forces Are Economized And Thus Gain In Resistance And Durability.

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

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

Forgetting Is The Great Secret Of Strong And Creative Lives.

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.

Girls Are Apt To Imagine Noble And Enchanting And Totally Imaginary Figures In Their Own Minds; They Have Fanciful Extravagant Ideas About Men, And Sentiment, And Life; And Then They Innocently Endow Somebody Or Other With All The Perfections For Their Daydreams, And Put Their Trust In Him.

A Woman Questions The Man Who Loves Exactly As A Judge Questions A Criminal. This Being So, A Flash Of The Eye, A Mere Word, An Inflection Of The Voice Or A Moment's Hesitation Suffice To Expose The Fact, Betrayal Or Crime He Is Attempting To Conceal.

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

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.

There Is Neither Vice Nor Virtue, There Are Only Circumstances.

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

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

The Man Whose Action Habitually Bears The Stamp Of His Mind Is A Genius, But The Greatest Genius Is Not Always Equal To Himself, Or He Would Cease To Be Human.

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.

Many Men Are Deeply Moved By The Mere Semblance Of Suffering In A Woman; They Take The Look Of Pain For A Sign Of Constancy Or Of Love.

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.

When In Turkey, Do As The Turkeys Do.

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

One Day, About The Middle Of July 1838, One Of The Carriages, Lately Introduced To Paris Cabstands, And Known As Milords, Was Driving Down The Rue De L'universite, Conveying A Stout Man Of Middle Height In The Uniform Of A Captain Of The National Guard.

Man Is Neither Good Nor Bad; He Is Born With Instincts And Abilities.

The Duration Of Passion Is Proportionate With The Original Resistance Of The Woman.

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.

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.

Conventions Are Often More Cruel Than The Law.

Marriage Is A Fierce Battle Before Which The Two Partners Ask Heaven For Its Blessing, Because Loving Each Other Is The Most Audacious Of Enterprises; The Battle Is Not Slow To Start, And Victory, That Is To Say Freedom, Goes To The Cleverest.

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.

For Avarice Begins Where Poverty Ends.

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.

Chance, My Dear, Is The Sovereign Deity In Child-bearing.

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

A Jealous Husband Doesnt Doubt His Wife, But Himself.

Charity Is Not One Of The Virtues Practiced On The Stock Market. The Heart Of A Bank Is But One Of Many Viscera.

Genius Is Answerable Only To Itself; It Is The Sole Judge Of The Means, Since It Alone Knows The End; Thus Genius Must Consider Itself As Above The Law, For It Is The Task Of Genius To Remake The Law; Moreover The Man Who Frees Himself From His Time And Place May Take Everything, Hazard Everything, For Everything Is His By Right.

Conscience Is Our Unerring Judge Until We Finally Stifle It.

Generally Our Confidences Move Downward Rather Than Upward; In Our Secret Affairs, We Employ Our Inferiors Much More Than Our Bettors.

The Happier A Man, The More Apt He Is To Tremble. In Hearts Exclusively Tender, Anxiety And Jealousy Are In Exact Proportion To Happiness.

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

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.

Several Sorts Of Memory Exist In Us; Body And Mind Each Possesses One Peculiar To Itself. Nostalgia, For Instance, Is A Malady Of The Physical Memory.

Few Men Are Raised In Our Estimation By Being Too Closely Examined.

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

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

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

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

When Attempted Self-destruction Does Not Cure A Man Of Life, It Cures Him Of Voluntary Death.

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.

Nowhere But In France Are People So Strictly Observant Of Great Matters And So Disdainfully Indulgent About Small Ones.

No Woman Dares To Refuse Love Without A Motive, For Nothing Is More Natural Than To Yield To Love.

If The Human Heart Sometimes Finds Moments Of Pause As It Ascends The Slopes Of Affection, It Rarely Halts On The Way Down.

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.

Virtually All Men Of Action Incline To Fatality Just As Most Thinkers Incline To Providence.

Man's Condition Is Horrible Because, No Matter What Form His Happiness May Take, It Arises From Some Species Of Ignorance.

What Is Art? Nature Concentrated.

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.

Pity Is Woman's Sweetest Charm.

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

The Police And The Society Of Jesus Posses In Common The Virtue Of Never Forsaking Their Enemies As Friends.

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

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

Poverty Is A Divine Stepmother Who Does For Youths What Their Own Mothers Were Unable To Do. It Introduces Them To Frugality, To The World And To Life.

For Certain People, Misfortune Is A Beacon That Lights Up The Dark And Baser Sides Of Social Life.

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.

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

You're A Fine Fastidious Young Man, As Proud As A Lion, As Gentle As A Girl. You'd Make A Good Catch For The Devil.

It Is As Absurd To Say That A Man Can't Love One Woman All The Time As It Is To Say That A Violinist Needs Several Violins To Play The Same Piece Of Music.

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

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

We Do Not Attach Ourselves Lastingly To Anything That Has Not Cost Us Care, Labor Or Longing.

At Fifteen, Neither Beauty Nor Talent Exist: A Woman Is All Promise.

Clothes Are Like A Gloss That Sets Off Everything; Dresser Were Invented More To Enhance Physical Advantages Than To Veil Physical Defects.

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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