Top 15 Alexandre Dumas fils Quotes

The difference between genius and stupidity is: genius has its limits.

Women sometimes allow you to be unfaithful to their love; they never allow you to wound their self-esteem.

No matter how long I live, I shall live longer than you will love me

Everything was believed except the truth.

Her delight in the smallest things was like that of a child. There were days when she ran in the garden, like a child of ten, after a butterfly or a dragon-fly. This courtesan who had cost more money in bouquets than would have kept a whole family in comfort, would sometimes sit on the grass for an hour, examining the simple flower whose name she bore.

We must have done something very wicked before we were born, or else we must be going to be very happy indeed when we are dead, for God to let this life have all the tortures of expiation and all the sorrows of an ordeal.

I gave myself to you sooner than I ever did to any man, I swear to you; and do you know why? Because when you saw me spitting blood you took my hand; because you wept; because you are the only human being who has ever pitied me. I am going to say a mad thing to you: I once had a little dog who looked at me with a sad look when I coughed; that is the only creature I ever loved. When he died I cried more than when my mother died. It is true that for twelve years of her life she used to beat me. Well, I loved you all at once, as much as my dog. If men knew what they can have for a tear, they would be better loved and we should be less ruinous to them.

All generalizations are dangerous, even this one.

One has always had a childhood, whatever one becomes.

The child is small, and he includes the man; the brain is narrow, and it harbours thought; the eye is but a point, and it covers leagues

ﻻ بد أننا ارتكبنا كثيرا من اﻵثام قبل أن نولد..أو أننا سننعم بالكثير من السعادة بعد أن نموت..وأﻻ ما أحتوت الحياة على كل هذا العذاب.

Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain the slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomes simply a matter of curiosity.

"Here is Christianity with its marvellous parable of the Prodigal Son to teach us indulgence and pardon. Jesus was full of love for souls wounded by the passions of men; he loved to bind up their wounds and to find in those very wounds the balm which should heal them. Thus he said to the Magdalen: "Much shall be forgiven thee because thou hast loved much," a sublimity of pardon which can only have called forth a sublime faith.

Why do we make ourselves more strict than Christ? Why, holding obstinately to the opinions of the world, which hardens itself in order that it may be thought strong, do we reject, as it rejects, souls bleeding at wounds by which, like a sick man's bad blood, the evil of their past may be healed, if only a friendly hand is stretched out to lave them and set them in the convalescence of the heart?"

We are not allowed to have hearts, under penalty of being hooted down.

Had she stabbed me with a knife, she could not have hurt me more.