The Mind Has No Sex.

As Far As I Am Concerned I Would Rather Spend The Rest Of My Life In Prison Than Marry Again.

It Is Sad, No Doubt, To Exhaust One's Strength And One's Days In Cleaving The Bosom Of This Jealous Earth, Which Compels Us To Wring From It The Treasures Of Its Fertility, When A Bit Of The Blackest And Coarsest Bread Is, At The End Of The Day's Work, The Sole Recompense And The Sole Profit Attaching To So Arduous A Toil.

Fame And Admiration Weigh Not A Feather In The Scale Against Friendship And Love, For The Heart Languishes All The Same.

The Capacity For Passion Is Both Cruel And Divine.

Whoever Has Loved Once, Knows All That Life Contains Of Sorrow And Of Joy.