I have never seen a badly dressed woman who was agreeable and good-humored.
A woman’s instinct is equivalent to the perspicacity of the wise.
In France, a witticism is to be heard on the scaffold as well as at the barricades, and some Frenchman or other will, I am sure, joke at the general sessions of the last judgment.
All soldiers look alike.
In love, chance is the providence of women.
Literature and politics are to women to-day that which religion was to them formerly,—the last asylum of their pretensions.
True sentiments are magnetic.
Misfortune creates in certain natures a vast desert, which reëchoes with the voice of God.
It is from the shock of characters, and not from conflict of ideas, that antipathies are born.
When intelligent men begin to explain their dispositions or give the key to their hearts they are most assuredly drunk.