Solitude is fine, but you need someone to tell you that solitude is fine

Marriage must incessantly contend with a monster that devours everything: familiarity

A woman who has made fun of her husband can love him no more

Love is the poetry of the senses

True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart

Economized love is never real love

A man may and ought to pride himself more on his will than on his talent

When women love us, they forgive us everything, even our crimes when they do not love us, they give us credit for nothing, not even our virtues

A good marriage would be between a blind wife and a deaf husband.

All human power is a compound of time and patience