Poverty Is A Divine Stepmother Who Does

Holding This Book In Your Hand, Sinking Back In Your Soft Armchair, You Will Say To Yourself: Perhaps It Will Amuse Me. And After You Have Read This Story Of Great Misfortunes, You Will No Doubt Dine Well, Blaming The Author For Your Own Insensitivity, Accusing Him Of Wild Exaggeration And Flights Of Fancy. But Rest Assured: This Tragedy Is Not A Fiction. All Is True.

Too Great A Display Of Delicacy Can And Does Sometimes Infringe Upon De-cency.

Ah! How Much A Mother Learns From Her Child! The Constant Protection Of A Helpless Being Forces Us To So Strict An Alliance With Virtue, That A Woman Never Shows To Full Advantage Except As A Mother. Then Alone Can Her Character Expand In The Fulfillment Of All Life's Duties And The Enjoyment Of All Its Pleasures.

Danger Arouses Interest. Where Death Is Involved, The Vilest Criminal Invariably Stirs A Little Compassion.

The Man Who Enters His Wife's Dressing Room Is Either A Philosopher Or A Fool.