Women, perhaps, even require a little hypocrisy.
If you are to judge a man, you must know his secret thoughts, sorrows, and feelings; to know merely the outward events of a mans life would only serve to make a chronological table a fools notion of history.
I declare, on my soul and conscience, that the attainment of power, or of a great name in literature, seemed to me an easier victory than a success with some young, witty, and gracious lady of high degree.
But does not happiness come from the soul within?
For pain is perhaps but a violent pleasure? Who could determine the point where pleasure becomes pain, where pain is still a pleasure? Is not the utmost brightness of the ideal world soothing to us, while the lightest shadows of the physical world annoy?
To be able to keep a mother-in-law in the country while he lives in Paris, and vice versa, is a piece of good fortune which a husband too rarely meets with.
A man ought not to marry without having studied anatomy, and dissected at least one woman.
The most virtuous women have in them something that is never chaste.
The virtue of women is perhaps a question of temperament.
Manners are the hypocrisy of nations.
There are certain wives whose confinement makes sarcastic celibates smile.
Marriage is a fight to the death, before which the wedded couple ask a blessing from heaven, because it is the rashest of all undertakings to swear eternal love; the fight at once commences and victory, that is to say liberty, remains in the hands of the cleverer of the two.
I should like one of these days to be so well known, so popular, so celebrated, so famous, that it would permit me to break wind in society, and society would think it a most natural thing.
To kill a relative of whom you are tired, is something; but to inherit his property afterwards that is a real pleasure!
A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over.