One of them having complained of the headache, I offered her my smelling-bottle, and one of her companions said to her, "Very likely you did not sleep well last night." "Oh! it is not that," answered the modest-looking Agnes, "I think I am in the family-way." On receiving this unexpected reply from a girl I had taken for a maiden, I said to her, "I should never have supposed that you were married, madam." She looked at me with evident surprise for a moment, then she turned towards her friend, and both began to laugh immoderately.

Ashamed, but for them more than myself, I left the house with a firm resolution never again to take virtue for granted in a class of women amongst whom it is so scarce.

To look for, even to suppose, modesty, amongst the nymphs of the green room, is, indeed, to be very foolish; they pride themselves upon having none, and laugh at those who are simple enough to suppose them better than they are.
Thanks to my friend Patu, I made the acquaintance of all the women who enjoyed some reputation in Paris.

He was fond of the fair sex, but unfortunately for him he had not a constitution like mine, and his love of pleasure killed him very early.

If he had lived, he would have gone down to posterity in the wake of Voltaire, but he paid the debt of nature at the age of thirty.
I learned from him the secret which several young French literati employ in order to make certain of the perfection of their prose, when they want to write anything requiring as perfect a style as they can obtain, such as panegyrics, funeral orations, eulogies, dedications, etc.