Character: Rafael de valence

Treasuries of evil are bottomless.

Love is a naive stream that flows over pebbles, between grasses and flowers, but now the stream becomes a river, a river, changes its nature and appearance from each new tributary, then flows into an immeasurable ocean, which seems to imperfect minds only monotony, and immerses great souls into endless contemplation.

If my mistress in her life is different from other women, if she does not walk, if she lives differently than they do, if she is wearing a mantle, which they cannot have, if a fragrance comes from her that is peculiar to her alone, she is to me like it much more.

I don't understand love in poverty.

After all, even those who already believe only in the devil are allowed to mourn the youthful paradise, the time of innocence.

This old genius lives in spheres alien to the world, and lives there alone, not rejoicing, because he no longer has illusions, not grieving, because he no longer knows pleasures.

I can't think of honesty in money matters without fairness in mind.

- Ah, if you knew my life!
- Ah! exclaimed Emile. - I didn't know you were so vulgar. Because it is cliche. Don't you know that everyone claims that he suffered more than others?

I was ready to give his life as a whole, but was not able to exchange it for stuff.

To live, I was willing to risk life itself.

Sleep is still live!

Who anticipates the wonderful future, he leads a miserable life as convict the innocent going to the execution, ' he is not ashamed.

For all the misfortune of talented people is the gap between their aspirations and the ability to implement them.

In childhood I decided to become a great man, and, striking himself on the forehead, I said, as Andre Chenier: "there's something Here!"