Honoré de Balzac

A mother’s life, you see, is one long succession of dramas, now soft and tender, now terrible. Not an hour but has its joys and fears.

— Honoré de Balzac

Death unites as well as separates; it silences all paltry feeling.

— Honoré de Balzac

To stroll is a science, it is the gastronomy of the eye. To walk is to vegetate, to stroll is to live ….

— Honoré de Balzac

A flow of words is a sure sign of duplicity.

— Honoré de Balzac

Excess of joy is harder to bear than any amount of sorrow.

— Honoré de Balzac

Virtue, my pet, is an abstract idea, varying in its manifestations with the surroundings. Virtue in Provence, in Constantinople, in London, and in Paris bears very different fruit, but is none the less virtue.

— Honoré de Balzac

The secret of a great success for which you are at a loss to account is a crime that has never been found out, because it was properly executed.

— Honoré de Balzac