Doubt Follows White-winged Hope With Trembling Steps.

Intuition, Like The Rays Of The Sun, Acts Only In An Inflexibly Straight Line; It Can Guess Right Only On Condition Of Never Diverting Its Gaze; The Freaks Of Chance Disturb It.

The More You Judge, The Less You Love.

A Mother's Happiness Is Like A Beacon, Lighting Up The Future But Reflected Also On The Past In The Guise Of Fond Memories.

Poverty Is A Divine Stepmother Who Does For Youths What Their Own Mothers Were Unable To Do. It Introduces Them To Frugality, To The World And To Life.

Women Are As They Are; They Necessarily Have The Defects Of Their Virtues.