According to me, there is no true happiness into which a little suffering does not enter.
Besides, I have a taste for contrasts.

At times I believe myself a millionaire, I have the pretensions of a nabob; I give full scope to my fancies; the next day, my bed is hard and I live on bread-and-water, and am perfectly happy.

In short, I am a fool once in the year, and a philosopher the rest of the time.' "'The trouble is,' returned the abbe, 'that one day of folly will sometimes suffice to compromise forever the future of a philosopher.' "'Oh, reassure yourself,' replied he; 'my extravagances never are very dangerous.

There was method in Hamlet's madness, and there is always a little reason in mine.' "While making this declaration of principles, he had seated himself at the piano, and idly began running his fingers over the keys.

Suddenly he began to sing a German song, which I got Abbe Miollens to translate for me, and which is not long.