Love passes quickly, and passes like a street Arab, anxious to mark his way with mischief

Economized love is never real love

It is the mark of a great man that he puts to flight all ordinary calculations. He is at once sublime and touching, childlike and of the race of giants.

Love is the poetry of the senses.

A woman knows the face of the man she loves like a sailor knows the open sea.

Great love affairs start with Champagne and end with tisane.