Love is a fault; so be it.
To be a saint is the exception; to be a just person is the rule. Err, stumble, commit sin, but be one of the just.
Loving is almost a substitute for thinking. Love is a burning forgetfulness of all other things. How shall we ask passion to be logical?
Are you afraid of the good you might do?
So long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Miserables cannot fail to be of use.
Now, one cannot read nonsense with impunity.
Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. – I shall feel it.
France is great because she is France.
She was a lovely blonde, with fine teeth. She had gold and pearls for her dowry; but her gold was on her head, and her pearls were in her mouth.
If she gives me all her time it is because I have all her heart.
The cruel of heart have their own black happiness.
Nothing can be sadder or more profound than to see a thousand things for the first and last time.
She was sad with an obscure sadness of which she had not the secret herself. There was in her whole person the stupor of a life ended but never commenced.
I think, therefore I doubt.
I repeat, whether we be Italians or Frenchmen, misery concerns us all.
A strange thing has happened, do you know? I am in darkness. There is a person who, departing, took away the sun.
If you are stone, be magnetic; if a plant, be sensitive; but if you are human be love.
Animals are nothing but the portrayal of our virtues and vices made manifest to our eyes, the visible reflections of our souls.
The most beautiful of altars, he said, is the soul of an unhappy creature consoled and thankfing God.
As for methods of prayer, all are good, as long as they are sincere.