Love manufactures every man into a poet while the fever lasts.
A man does not entreat for love. It is the irresistible impulse towards each other of two souls, a union in which there is neither conscious giving nor receiving.
True sympathy is beyond what can be seen and touched and reasoned upon.
Work, ah! that talisman to guard one against one's self.
Marriage: This terrible insoluble problem of civilisation, which created all the evil. This unnatural state of union in disunion which exacted impossibilities and forced together elements absolutely and inherently antagonistic to each other!
Character makes its own destiny.
Men and women existed before creeds; love is the only religion.
