A Year At The Breast

Lofty Souls Are Always Inclined To Make A Virtue Of Misfortune.

Hope Is A Light Diet, But Very Stimulating.

All Men Can Bear A Familiar, Definite Misfortune Better Than The Cruel Alternations Of A Fate Which, From One Moment To Another, Brings Excessive Joy Or Sorrow.

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.

Our Most Bitter Enemies Are Our Own Kith And Kin. Kings Have No Brothers, No Sons, No Mother!