Life is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel.

A tragedy need not have blood and death; it's enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the pleasure of tragedy.

Est-ce ainsi que vos yeux consolent ma disgrâce?

Hélas! de vos malheurs innocente ou coupable, / De quoi pour vous sauver n'étais-je point capable?

You who love wild passions, flee the holy austerity of my pleasures. All here breathes of God, peace and truth.