The French Immortals: Quotes and Images, Complete

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All that a name is to a street— its honor, its spouse Came not in single spies, but in battalions Distrust first impulse Felix culpa Happy men don't need company Hard that one can not live one's life over twice He always loved to pass for being overwhelmed with work I don't call that fishing If trouble awaits us, hope will steal us a happy hour or two Lends—I should say gives Men forget sooner Natural only when alone, and talk well only to themselves Obstacles are the salt of all our joys One doesn't offer apologies to a man in his wrath People meeting to have it out usually say nothing at first Silence, alas! is not the reproof of kings alone Skilful actor, who apes all the emotions while feeling none Sorrows shrink into insignificance as the horizon broadens Surprise goes for so much in what we admire The very smell of books is improving The looks of the young are always full of the future There are some blunders that are lucky; but you can't tell To be your own guide doubles your pleasure You a law student, while our farmers are in want of hands You must always first get the tobacco to burn evenly You ask Life for certainties, as if she had any to give you

A familiarity which, had he known it, was not flattering A mother's geese are always swans As we grow older we lay aside harsh judgments and sharp words Bathers, who exhibited themselves in all degrees of ugliness Blow which annihilates our supreme illusion Death is not that last sleep Fool (there is no cure for that infirmity) Fred's verses were not good, but they were full of dejection Great interval between a dream and its execution Hang out the bush, but keep no tavern His sleeplessness was not the insomnia of genius Importance in this world are as easily swept away as the sand Music—so often dangerous to married happiness Natural longing, that we all have, to know the worst Notion of her husband's having an opinion of his own Old women—at least thirty years old! Pride supplies some sufferers with necessary courage Seemed to enjoy themselves, or made believe they did Seldom troubled himself to please any one he did not care for Small women ought not to grow stout Sympathetic listening, never having herself anything to say The bandage love ties over the eyes of men The worst husband is always better than none This unending warfare we call love Unwilling to leave him to the repose he needed Waste all that upon a thing that nobody will ever look at Women who are thirty-five should never weep