“First love is a kind of vaccination which saves a man from catching the complaint the second time.”

Nobody loves a woman because she is handsome or ugly, stupid or intelligent. We love because we love.

Talent is a flame, but genius is a fire.

Noble passions are like vices: the more they are satisfied, the greater they grow, Mothers and gamblers are insatiable.

Cruelty and fear shake hands together.

The first thing necessary to win the heart of a woman is opportunity.

Love is perhaps no more than gratitude for pleasure.

A woman must be a genius to create a good husband.

A mother who is really a mother is never free.

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.

It is quite right what they say: the three most beautiful sights in the world are a ship in full sail, a galloping horse, and a woman dancing.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.

Like hunger, physical love is a necessity. But man’s appetite for amour is never so regular or so sustained as his appetite for the delights of the table.

A naked woman is less dangerous than one who spreads her skirt skillfully to cover and exhibit everything at once.

All happiness depends on courage and work. I have had many periods of wretchedness, but with energy and above all with illusions, I pulled through them all.

Life is simply what out feelings do to us.

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.

On others pride hushes them to silence; no complaint is made for they scorn pity or sympathy.

I feel like all my songs slept-on. I’m not complainin’, but I just wanna drop more heat.

Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain – and most fools do. But it takes character and self control to be understanding and forgiving.

A saint realizes that it is God who engineers his circumstances; consequently there are no complaints, only unrestrained surrender to Jesus.

It is not so much the greatness of our troubles, as the littleness of our spirit, which makes us complain.

The story goes that a public sinner was excommunicated and forbidden entry to the church. He took his woes to God. ‘They won’t let me in, Lord, because I am a sinner.’ ‘What are you complaining about?’ said God. ‘They won’t let Me in either.

He who complains, sins.

Rejoicing in ordinary things is not sentimental or trite. It actually takes guts. Each time we drop our complaints and allow everyday good fortune to inspire us, we enter the warrior’s world.