What is a child, monsieur, but the image of two beings, the fruit of two sentiments spontaneously blended? — Honoré de Balzac
What is a child, monsieur, but the image of two beings, the fruit of two sentiments spontaneously blended?
Un enfant, monsieur, n'est-il pas l'image de deux êtres, le fruit de deux sentiments librement confondus ?
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But reason always cuts a poor figure beside sentiment; the one being essentially restricted, like everything that is positive, while the other is infinite.
Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside.
