In literature as in love, we are astonished at what is chosen by others.
The longer the road to love, the keener is the pleasure.
Love born of anxiety resembles a thorn shaped so that efforts to pull it out of one's flesh merely cause it to penetrate more deeply therein.
We can talk frankly about our defects only to those who recognise our qualities.
A friend loves you for your intelligence, a mistress for your charm, but your family's love is unreasoning; you were born into it and are of its flesh and blood. Nevertheless it can irritate you more than any group of people in the world.
You don't love a man for what he says, but love what he says because you love him.
[...] marriage is one thing, and love is another...You need to have a solid canvas; nobody stops you to weave the arabesques...
We owe to the Middle Ages the two worst inventions of humanity - romantic love and gunpowder.
A successful marriage is an edifice that must be rebuilt every day.
A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short.