It wasn’t only a little she-cat I bought. It was the nobility of all cats, their infinite disinterestedness, their knowledge of how to live, their affinities with the highest type of humans.

It is absurd to suppose that periods empty of love are blank pages in a woman’s life. The truth is just the reverse. What remains to be said about a passionate love affair? It can be told in three lines. He loved me, I loved Him. His presence obliterated all other presences. We were happy. Then He stopped loving me and I suffered.

To write sincerely, almost sincerely! I hope it may bring me relief, that sort of interior silence which follows a sudden utterance, a confession.

Tout m’est egalement odieux.

It is wise to apply the oil of refined politeness to the mechanisms of friendship.

I put on a martyred expression – like this – as if I was bored to death with every luxury under the sun. I had the time of my life.

Incompatibility became established between them like a new season of the year.

Does she deliberately make herself ugly out of modesty or pride?” Brice wondered, watching his wife walk pigeon-toed, run into the corner of the table, and rub her thigh. “It’s a kind of lie, too.

My son, be rich and live your own life! Tell yourself that you’re the incarnation of an ancient aristocracy. Model yourself on the feudal barons. You’re a warrior.

After you, probably anyone can have me who wants me. A woman, many women. But never another cat.