The Intellect Seeks, The Heart Finds.

Life Is A Slate Where All Our Sins Are Written; From Time To Time We Rub The Sponge Of Repentance Over It So We Can Begin Sinning Again.

... The Progress Of The Language Has Caused Us To Lose Many Old Treasures. It Is Thus With All Progress, And One Must Make The Best Of It.

Nothing Is So Easy As To Deceive One’s Self When One Does Not Lack Wit And Is Familiar With All The Niceties Of Language. Language Is A Prostitute Queen Who Descends And Rises To All Roles. Disguises Herself, Arrays Herself In Fine Apparel, Hides Her Head And Effaces Herself; An Advocate Who Has An Answer For Everything, Who Has Always Foreseen Everything, And Who Assumes A Thousand Forms In Order To Be Right. The Most Honorable Of Men Is He Who Thinks Best And Acts Best, But The Most Powerful Is He Who Is Best Able To Talk And Write

The Masses Are Still Ungrateful Or Ignorant. They Prefer Murder, Poisonings, And Crimes Generally To A Literature Possessed Of Style And Feeling.

Immodest Creature, You Do Not Want A Woman Who Will Accept Your Faults, You Want The One Who Pretends You Are Faultless - One Who Will Caress The Hand That Strikes Her And Kiss The Lips That Lie To Her.