For, to make deserts, God, who rules mankind, Begins with kings, and ends the work by wind.

In spring they lie flat at the first warmth, they ruin my summer and in autumn they smell of women.

In the French language, there is a great gulf between prose and poetry; in English, there is hardly any difference. It is a splendid privilege of the great literary languages Greek, Latin, and French that they possess a prose. English has not this privilege. There is no prose in English.

The omnipotence of evil has never resulted in anything but fruitless efforts. Our thoughts always escape from whoever tries to smother them.

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.

Curiosity is one of the forms of feminine bravery.