Women, when they have made a sheep of a man, always tell him that he is a lion with a will of iron.
HONORE DE BALZACSome day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another’s happiness than in your own.
More Honore de Balzac Quotes
-
-
Memories beautify life, but the capacity to forget makes it bearable.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Old maids, having never bent their temper or their lives to other lives and other tempers, as woman’s destiny requires, have for the most part a mania for making everything about them bend to them.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
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.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
We love because we love.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Man is no match for woman where mischief reigns.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
An unfulfilled vocation drains the color from a man’s entire existence.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Men die in despair, while spirits die in ecstasy.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
The more you judge, the less you love.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
He has great tranquility of heart who cares neither for the praises nor the fault-finding of men.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Temperament is the thermometer of character.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Some day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another’s happiness than in your own.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
The press is like a woman: sublime when it lies, it will not let go until it has forced you to believe it. The public, like a foolish husband, always succumbs.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Woman is a delightful instrument of pleasure, but it is necessary to know its trembling strings, to study the position of them, the timid keyboard, the fingering so changeful and capricious which befits it.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
Coffee falls into the stomach. Ideas begin to move, things remembered arrive at full gallop. the shafts of wit start up like sharp-shooters, similes arise, the paper is covered with ink.
HONORE DE BALZAC -
People exaggerate both happiness and unhappiness; we are never so fortunate nor so unfortunate as people say we are.
HONORE DE BALZAC






