Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit; happy is he who, after facing watched its silent growth, is permitted to gather and call it his own.
Youth is a blossom whose fruit is love; happy is he who plucks it after watching it slowly ripen.
Your life story is a novel; and people, though they love novels wound between two yellow paper covers, are oddly suspicious of those which come to them in living vellum.
Your father embraced me once more. I felt two grateful tears on my forehead, like the baptism of my past faults, and at the moment when I consented to give myself up to another man I glowed with pride at the thought of what I was redeeming by this new fault.
Your bitter memories still have time to turn into sweet ones.
Young man had a steed which was the observed of all observers. It was a Bearn pony, from twelve to fourteen years old, yellow in his hide, without a hair.
You who weep for pleasures fled, While dragging on a life of care, All your woes will melt in air, If to god your tears are shed, You who Weap!
You who are in power have only the means that money produces—we who are in expectation, have those which devotion prompts.
You were able to wait,' said Dantes, sighing. 'Your long labor gave you a constant occupation, and when you didn't have your work to distract you, you had your hopes to console you.
You speak like the Apocalypse, and you are as true as the Gospel.
You posses a quality which can never belong to Mademoiselle Danglars. It is that indefinable charm which is to a woman what perfume is to the flower and flavor to the fruit, for beauty of either is not the only quality we seek.
You know as well as I do, my dear boy, that in politics there are no people, only ideas; no feelings, only interests. In politics, you don't kill a man, you remove an obstacle, that's all.
You instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians- that is, you assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you possess.
You have suspicions, nevertheless?" "Yes, monseigneur; but these suspicions appeared to be disagreeable to Monsieur the Commissary, and I no longer have them.
You cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, 'I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another's.' Is not this true, Fernand?
You assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you possess.
You are young," replied Athos, "and your bitter memories have time to change into sweet ones.
You are very amiable, no doubt, but you would be charming if you would only depart.
You are right; you know men better than I do, and what you say may possibly be the case, I confess; but if such persons are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it, because then I should be forced to hate them.
You are perfectly right in objecting to them [modern art], for this one great fault - that they have not yet had time to become old.
You are my son Dantés! You are the child of my captivity. My priestly office condemned me to celibacy: God sent you to me both to console the man who could not be a father and the prisoner who could not be free.
Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy; he does know how to destroy, and that is half the battle.
Yes; I am a supercargo; pen, ink, and paper are my tools, and without my tools I am fit for nothing.
Yes; but one gets out of prison," said Caderousse, who, with what sense was left him, listened eagerly to the conversation, "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes, one seeks revenge.
Yes; and remember that two-legged crocodiles are more dangerous that the others.
Yes. You are pawning me for three million: am I right?' ‘The larger the sum, the more flattering it is. It gives you some idea of your value.
Yes," said he, "yes, Anne of Austria is my true queen. Upon a word from her, I would betray my country, I would betray my king, I would betray my God.
Yes, indeed, I have often thought with a bitter joy that these riches, which would make the wealth of a dozen families, will be forever lost to those men who persecute me. This idea was one of vengeance to me, and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the despair of my captivity.
Worried capitalist is like a comet: he always presages some disaster for the world.
Women sometimes allow you to be unfaithful to their love; they never allow you to wound their self-esteem.
Women of a certain grade are like prosperous grisettes in one respect, they seldom return home after twelve o'clock.
Women and doors - did I not tell you, friend Porthos, that they are always to be managed by gentleness? - D'Artagnan.
Without words, protestations, or vows, I have laid my life in your hands. You fail me, and, I repeat once more, you are quite right in acting thus; nevertheless in losing you I lose part of my life.
Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character," said the count; "on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed.
Within six months, if I am not dead, I shall have seen you again, madam--even if I have to overturn the world.
Why, when a man has friends, they are not only to offer him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water unnecessarily!
Why,' said he, ‘does not the emperor, who has devised so many clever and efficient modes of improving the art of war, organize a regiment of lawyers, judges and legal practitioners, sending them in the hottest fire the enemy could maintain, and using them to save better men?
Why does not God, if he really hates the wicked, as he is said to do, send down brimstone and fire, and consume them altogether? You.
Why does a steward steal? He steals because he's not sure he'll always remain with his master and wants to make his future secure.
Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?' said Morriel with tearful eyes. 'Darling' replied Valentine, 'has not the count just told us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words? - Wait and hope (Fac et spera)
When you wish to obtain some concession from a man's self-love, you must avoid even the appearance of wishing to wound it.
When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter—to quit paradise for earth—heaven for hell! Taste the hashish, guest of mine—taste the hashish.
When you have the honour to find yourself in the company of ordinary men and the good fortune to be out of politics for a moment, please try to pick up the heart that you leave behind at the cloakroom of the Lower and Upper House.