“If you are to judge a man, you must know his secret thoughts, sorrows, and feelings; to know merely the outward events of a man’s life would only serve to make a chronological table-a fool’s notion of history.”

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.

To be happy, a man must love his wife as she chooses to be loved.

A good husband is never the first to go to sleep at night or the last to awake in the morning.

Marriage must incessantly contend with a monster that devours everything: familiarity.

Can you find a man who loves the occupation that provides him with a livelihood? Professions are like marriages; we end by feeling only their inconveniences.

How can we explain the perpetuity of envy–a vice which yields no return?

How sternly we reproach virtue for its failings, how indulgent we are to the better qualities of vice!

The good we do to others is spoilt unless we efface ourselves so completely that those we help have no sense of inferiority.

People exaggerate both happiness and unhappiness; we are never so fortunate nor so unfortunate as people say we are.

When Religion and Royalty are swept away, the people will attack the great, and after the great, they will fall upon the rich.

Courtesy is only a thin veneer on the general selfishness.

Events are never absolute, their outcome depends entirely upon the individual.

As a rule, only the poor are generous.

Everybody all over the world takes a wife’s estimate into account in forming an opinion of a man.

Where poverty ceases, avarice begins.

People who are in love suspect nothing or everything.

It doesn’t bother me at all. Do I hold any hard feelings? Not at all, Life is too short to sit around and hold grudges.

The danger with mentioning names is that you hurt the feelings of people that you leave out.

We don’t have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.

The writing process, the way I go about it is I do whatever the beat feels like, whatever the beat is telling me to do.

I believe in free love and that’s just how I feel.

Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong.

To look and feel my best, I watch my calories and exercise.

It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling.