Author of quotes: Guy De Maupassant. Page 14

True love needs freedom and at the same time in the obstacles.

- No honest people; at best, they are honest only in comparison with scoundrels.

Strong people, somehow, always gets his way.

Why do we suffer so? Obviously, because we are born to live not so much for the soul as for the body. But we have the ability to think, and our growing minds are not willing to put up with the ineptness of the being.

When a young man, he can love in separation - he can love in letters, in thoughts, in the fervent imagination - perhaps he feels that life is yet to come, and maybe because at this age the passion in him is much stronger than the need of the heart, and love becomes a habit of the patient, a warming poultice for the soul, which left only one wing of which is already not so high soars in a perfect world.

Really love how small it is! When you love someone, just love, no more, no less. It does not need any additions. Over it is impossible either to think or to say. It briefly, it is self-sufficient.

Love is the only joy in life, but we often spoil her, making too much claims.

Agreeing to appreciate the legitimate love as an affair, You give it special value, a taste of debauchery, the beauty of the forbidden fruit.

In women do not happen exactly the lovers, which is attributed to them.

People are gullible; it is strange, but in order to suspect, to unravel and frustrate the cunning designs of others, we do not Express a tenth of the ingenuity which Express, trying, in turn, someone to hold.

You should be able to impress, and not to ask.

It is not unwillingness, but a lack of opportunities.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, the Scripture says. They think that they are happy. They, these poor in spirit, incomprehensible to our lonely, longing, they do not wander through life like me, not knowing the other location, except for fleeting meetings, knowing no other joy except the doubtful satisfaction of what I saw, understood, solved and gained the consciousness of our eternal irreparable fragmentation.

- Poor people! They inspire me not disgust, and immense pity. Of all the mysteries of human existence I've figured out one: most of all we suffer in life from eternal loneliness, and all our actions, all the efforts are intended to escape from it. And they, the lovers, perched on benches under the open sky, like we, like all living creatures, strive at least for a moment not feel alone; but they, like us, will always be alone.