“The human heart may find here and there a resting-place short of the highest height of affection, but we seldom stop in the steep, downward slope of hatred.”

“Though the human heart may have to pause for rest when climbing the heights of affection it rarely stops on the slippery slope of hatred.”

“If the human heart sometimes finds moments of pause as it ascends the slopes of affection, it rarely halts on the way down.”

“However gross a man may be, the minute he expresses a strong and genuine affection, some inner secretion alters his features, animates his gestures, and colors his voice. The stupidest man will often, under the stress of passion, achieve heights of eloquence, in thought if not in language, and seem to move in some luminous sphere. Goriot's voice and gesture had at this moment the power of communication that characterizes the great actor. Are not our finer feelings the poems of the human will?”

“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness”

“Here comes Mamma Vauquerr, fair as a starrr; and strung up like a bunch of carrots. Aren't we suffocating ourselves a wee bit?' he asked, placing a hand on the top of her corset. 'A bit of a crush in the vestibule, here, Mamma! If we start crying, there'll be an explosion. Never mind, I'll be there to collect the bits--just like an antiquary.''Now, there's the language of true French gallantry,' murmured Madame Vauquer in an aside to Madame Couture.”

“Hatred is the vice of narrow souls; they feed it with all their littleness, and make it the pretext of base tyrannies.”