The heart is always young only in the recollection of those whom it has loved in youth.
Friendship lives on its income, love devours its capital.
Imagination, whatever may be said to the contrary, will always hold a place in history, as truth does in romance. Has not romance been penned with history in view?
Hope is the virgin of the ideal world, who opens beaten to as in the midst of every tempest.
Happiness is always the inaccessible castle which sinks in ruin when we set foot on it.
Up to forty a woman has only forty springs in her heart. After that age she has only forty winters.
Always have old memories, and young hopes.
Whoever embarks with women embarks with a storm; but they are themselves the safety boats.
The graves of those we have loved and lost distress and console as.
Genius has its fatality. Must we not see in its works a manifestation of the will of Providence?
Have you not sometimes seen happiness? Yes, the happiness of others.
The Parisienne is not in fashion, she is fashion.