One felt that in her renunciation of life she had deliberately abandoned those places in which she might at least have been able to see the man she loved, for others where he had never trod.

... Error, by force of contrast, enhances the triumph of Truth...

When one feels oneself smitten by love for a woman, one ought to say to oneself, “What are her surroundings? What has been her life? All one’s future happiness lies in the answer.

... there was no need for him to hasten towards the attainment of a happiness already captured and held in a safe place, which would not escape his grasp again.

... the idea that 'Life' contains situations more interesting and more romantic than all the romances ever written.

Why did you not forget your heart also? I should never have let you have that back." ...

... the courage of one's opinions is always a form of calculating cowardice in the eyes of the 'other side'...

... rejoicing in a peace which brings only an increase of anxiety, ...

She [Mme des Laumes] belonged to that half of the human race in whom the curiosity the other half feels about the people it does not know is replaced by an interest in the people it does.

Presently, one after another, like shyly hopping sparrows, her friends arrived, black against the snow.

What criterion ought one to adopt to judge one's fellows? After all, there was not a single person he knew who might not, in certain circumstances, prove capable of a shameful action.

No one should be forced to be something they aren't.

I think people are as individual as snowflakes, they kinda look alike but no two are the exactly the same, and all classification is the root of prejudice.

Ability is the result of mental and physical toughness, resourcefulness, and powerful concentration.

People can't relate to someone who only talks about their successes.

I was born to be a remarkable woman; it matters little in what way or how. ... I shall be famous or I will die.

I always think that I would have become an actor if I hadn't been a soccer player.

The cross was a glorious outworking of the grace of God, by which the Father commissioned the Son to make full satisfaction so that sinners might be saved with no sacrifice of God’s justice.

There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named -- the happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.

Thought itself needs words. It runs on them like a long wire. And if it loses the habit of words, little by little it becomes shapeless, somber.