It is difficult to grow old gracefully.
Ought not every woman, like every man, to follow the bent of her own talents?
The memories which come to us through music are not accompanied by any regrets; for a moment music gives us back the pleasures it retraces, and we feel them again rather than recollect them.
Life, for me, is living among my friends.
Wit lies in recognizing the resemblance among things which differ and the difference between things which are alike.
It is not enough to forgive; one must forget.
Life often seems like a long shipwreck of which the debris are friendship, glory, and love. - The shores of existence are strewn with them.
A voyage without companionship, that is to say without conversation, is one of the saddest pleasures of life.
[To Bonaparte, when asked why she meddled in politics:] Sire, when women have their heads cut off, it is but just they should know the reason.
Have you not observed that faith is generally strongest in those whose character may be called the weakest?
The world is the work of a single thought, expressed in a thousand different ways.
Divine Wisdom, intending to detain us some time on earth, has done well to cover with a veil the prospect of the life to come; for if our sight could clearly distinguish the opposite bank, who would remain on this tempestuous coast of time?
Beauty is one in the universe, and, whatever form it assumes, it always arouses a religious feeling in the hearts of mankind.
Who understands much, forgives much.
The success of any man with any woman is apt to displease even his best friends.
In matters of the heart, nothing is true except the improbable.
Exile: A tomb in which you can get mail.
Goethe has made a remark upon the perfectability of the human mind, which is full of sagacity: It is always advancing, but in a spiral line.
Love is the whole history of a woman's life, it is but an episode in a man's.
When a noble life has prepared old age, it is not decline that it reveals, but the first days of immortality.
The mind's pleasures are made to calm the tempests of the heart.
Providence protects us in all the details of our lot.
intellect is a sin that must be atoned for by leading exactly the life of those who have none.
Nature, who permits no two leaves to be exactly alike, has given a still greater diversity to human minds. Imitation, then, is a double murder; for it deprives both copy and original of their primitive existence.
nothing is so horrifying as the possibility of existing simply because we do not know how to die.
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