French Writer and Aristocrat
Madame de Sévigné, Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, marquise de Sévigné
French Writer and Aristocrat
Fortune is always on the side of the largest battalions.
It is my heart.
There is no one who does not represent a danger to someone.
Have mercy on me, take care of yourself, if you value your life. So convincingly asserted that likes to hope, at least for my sake will beware of danger.
It is now more or less, if need be, I can pull myself together, and sometimes four or five hours is all that I behave like another, but nothing put back the former state I: a memory location or a word, a little reflection, and mainly for its leaves, even mine, when I write them, someone who talks about himself:. many cliff, which shatters the self-control, and that there are plenty cliff
Thicken your religion a little. It is evaporating altogether by being subtilized.
He says he would be happy if just once they enter the room and hear him speak. Not to mention that I would like to see or hear you, they want to talk to you! Real obsession is with me, unceasing torment myself with it and BANVELR mind that at the time I did not look, do not listen to you satisfy and it seems to me, not really wasted the opportunities, all the same, I cannot calm down, I'm crazy, that's the plain truth, but the bolonds gomat itself bound to love. I do not understand how someone could be so much to think about. Well, you never run out of these thoughts? Never, but when I no longer think about.
It is only up to you, fills my life in joy or pain; himself know, and everyone else strange. My brain is close to some of the same things, but my heart only knows one. All this can determine how sensitive and vulnerable I am, and you could feel when unjustly marginalized by his own heart.
We like so much to talk of ourselves that we are never weary of those private interviews with a lover during the course of whole years, and for the same reason the devout like to spend much time with their confessor; it is the pleasure of talking of themselves even though it be to talk ill.
Heaven bless you, my dear, beloved child: you can love someone so much
It is the fine rain that soaks us through.
We satisfied ourselves the other day that there was no real ill in life except severe bodily pain; everything else is the child of the imagination, and depends on our thoughts; all other ills find a remedy, either from time or moderation, or strength of mind.
I bet that cell has no idea how much I love her.
It is thus that we walk through the world like the blind, not knowing whither we are going, regarding as bad what is good, regarding as good what is bad, and ever in entire ignorance.
Well, eventually I realized. Should glide above all, and not to entrust ourselves in our thoughts and hearts moods
I cannot tell how much I esteem and admire your good and happy temperament. What folly not to take advantage of circumstances, and enjoy gratefully the consolations which God sends us after the afflictive dispensations which He sometimes sees proper to make us feel! It seems to me to be a proof of great wisdom to submit with resignation to the storm, and enjoy the calm when it pleases Him to give it use again.
It's always nice to start the first attack.
Well, kiss, my baby. If you can, continue to love, it's the only thing that I wish for myself, to reconcile my soul makes. You of course a lot more wish:. A word than a century, everything revolves around you, yourself, for you, is by itself
I dislike clocks with second-hands; they cut up life into too small pieces.
Let's embrace and love: I always say this, because I feel it all the time.
What do you say, dear child, this endless letter? If I wanted to, in advance throughout the morning.
I fear nothing so much as a man who is witty all day long.
Occupation is the best safeguard for women under all circumstances?mental or physical, or both. Cupid extinguishes his torch in the atmosphere of industry.
What's the matter, Miss? Why so sad? For what is more strange is happening to us? We loved each other and now we do not love, loyalty is not a virtue in young people. Wise to forget the past and we talk and behave as before
Ideal beauty is a fugitive which is never located.