Character: Marguerite Gautier

We must have greatly sinned before we were born or will experience great bliss after death, the Lord God makes us in this life to endure all the agony of the atonement and all the sorrows tests!

Surrounding life and someone else's happiness make you to covet the lives of those who the day before, deep down, in the quiet of the sickroom, wished for death.

Only men have the power not to forgive.

Old people don't have patience, probably because don't realize their fragility.

We do not belong to myself. We cease to be persons and become things. We are the first in their vanity and in their last respect.

We are the children of, we have and desire is fantastic, and love unfathomable. We are given one thing, then another. There are people who ruined it for us and get nothing, others of us get a bouquet of flowers. Our hearts are whims; it is his only entertainment and only justification.

- Tell me frankly, do you love me?
Very.
- Well, why did you deceived me?
My friend, if I was some noble Duchess, if I had two hundred thousand livres of annual income, if I were your mistress and would take another lover, then you would have the right to ask me why I'm lying to you; but I, Marguerite Gautier, I have forty thousand francs in debt, penniless state, I spend a hundred thousand francs a year, in this case, your question becomes idle and my answer useless.

Why I first asked you to share your mood? Probably because you love me for me and not for himself, but others always loved me for myself.

I'm tired, in the end, to constantly see people who want me to do the same, pay me and think that they are with me even. If those who first start to our shameful trade, know what it is, they probably would have gone to the cleaners. But no; we have to have the dresses and carriages and diamonds; we believe what we are told, because prostitutes are also able to believe; and little by little wear out our soul, our body, our beauty, we are afraid, like wild animals, we despise how some pariahs, we're always surrounded by people who always take from us more than they give us, and in the end we die like dogs, killing himself and others.

How much would I have lived, I will live longer than you I'll love.

Men, instead of being satisfied with what they are given and that they could hardly hope, demand from his mistress's report in the present, past and even future. The more they get used to it, the more they want to rule over her, and the more they give, the greater are their demands. I decide to take a new lover, provided that he had three rare qualities: trust, humility and modesty.

But what should I do to reward this great love?
- Love me a little bit.

Men will certainly want to know what they can cause pain.

- Don't hesitate, and with a woman like me?
- A woman always have to be shy.