When a woman wants to betray her husband, her actions are almost invariably studied but they are never reasoned.
As soon as man seeks to penetrate the secrets of Nature – in which nothing is secret and it is but a question of seeing – he realizes that the simple produces the supernatural.
No husband will ever be better avenged than by his wife’s lover.
Believe everything you hear said of the world; nothing is too impossibly bad.
In France everything is a matter for jest. People make quips about the scaffold, about Napoleon’s defeat on the banks of The Beresina, and about the barricades of our revolutions. So, at the assizes of the Last Judgment, there will always be a Frenchmen to crack a joke.
Love is the most melodious of all harmonies.
Despotism accomplishes great things illegally; liberty doesn’t even go to the trouble of accomplishing small things legally.
For a sick man the world begins at his pillow and ends at the foot of his bed.
Hatred like love feeds on the merest trifles.
Everybody all over the world takes a wife’s estimate into account in forming an opinion of a man.
The man who enters his wife’s dressing room is either a philosopher or a fool.
There are no principles; there are only events. There is no good and bad, there are only circumstances.
I believe in the incomprehensibility of God.
Squeeze marriage as much as you like, you will never extract anything from it but fun for bachelors and boredom for husbands.
We are never either so wretched or so happy as we say we are.
All we are is in the soul.
For the journalist, anything probable is gospel truth.
They ended as all great passions do end – by a misunderstanding.
God reveals himself unfailingly to the thoughtful seeker.
As a rule, only the poor are generous.