Like evil, sublimity is also contagious.
Let nothing dupe you! Such is the horrible maxim that acts as a solvent upon every noble feeling man experiences.
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.
No society is complete without some victim, a creature to pity, to jeer at, to scorn or to protect.
People who climb from one rung of society to another can never do anything simply.
Society proceeds like the ocean. After a disaster, it resume its wonted level and rhythms; its devouring interests efface all traces of damage.
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.
Our souls possess the unknown power of extending as well as contracting space.
Materialism and spirituality are two pretty racquets with which charlatans in cap and gown make the same ball fly.
Let us leave the cure of public evils to those quacks, the statesmen.
Heaven should be kind to stupid people, for no one else can be consistently.
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.
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.
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.
A beautiful book is a victory won in all the battlefields of human thought.
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.
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.
The privilege of feeling at home everywhere belongs only to kings, wolves and robbers.
When we drink coffee, ideas march in like the army.
Finance, like time, devours its own children.