Independently of any gesture of repulsion, there exists in the soul of all women a sentiment which tends, sooner or later, to proscribe all pleasure devoid of passionate feeling.
Increase the number of honest women and diminish the number of celibates, as much as you choose, you will always find that the result will be a larger number of gallant adventurers than of honest women.
In the life of man there are no two moments of pleasure exactly alike, any more than there are two leaves of identical shape upon the same tree.
In sleep we are living corpses, we are the prey of an unknown power which seizes us in spite of ourselves, and shows itself in the oddest shapes.
In married life, the moment when two hearts come to understand each other is sudden as a flash of lightning, and never returns, when once it is passed.
In love, putting aside all consideration of the soul, the heart of a woman is like a lyre which does not reveal its secret, excepting to him who is a skillful player.
In every case we receive only in proportion to what we give.
In a lover the coarsest desire always shows itself as a burst of honest admiration.
If you have desired your object only for one day, your love perhaps will not last more than three nights.
If there are differences between one moment of pleasure and another, a man can always be happy with the same woman.
If the role of an honest woman were nothing more than perilous, I would admit that it would serve. But it is tiresome; and I have never met a virtuous woman who did not think about deceiving somebody.
If the God of goodness and indulgence who hovers over the worlds does not make a second washing of the human race, it is doubtless because so little success attended the first.
