Manners Are The Hypocrisy Of A Nation.

With Every One, The Expectation Of A Misfortune Constitutes A Dreadful, Punishment. Suffering Then Assumes The Proportions Of The Unknown, Which Is The Soul's Infinite.

Women, Perhaps Even Require A Little Hypocrisy.

God Is The Author, Men Are Only The Players. These Grand Pieces Which Are Played Upon Earth Have Been Composed In Heaven.

Rich Men Are Resolved To Be Astonished At Nothing. When They See A Masterpiece, They Must Needs At One Glance Recognize Some Flaw To Dispense Them From Admiration, A Vulgar Emotion.

The Fact Is That Love Is Of Two Kinds, One Which Commands, And One Which Obeys. The Two Are Quite Distinct, And The Passion To Which The One Gives Rise Is Not The Passion Of The Other.