"against your sweeping assertion, that every heart is worthless."
"Oh, I will admit of exceptions; but the very exception proves the rule. Love-making would be very insipid, but for the little difficulties, vanities, and misunderstandings, which diversify its progress."
"A lover's progress," added the Duke, "is like the races which the ancients were wont to run, carrying torches—the competitors usually contrived to extinguish their light before they reached the goal. So, in love—ay, in life—one bright hope dies away after another, and leaves us nothing but to regret that it was our own hurry that put them out."
"Regret again!" exclaimed Madame de Soissons. "Instead of lamenting over the extinguished torch, we ought to try to kindle another."
"Or rather," replied De Joinville, "try to do without either. We should try to cultivate monotony much more than we do. We work ourselves up into excitement, when we should rather compose ourselves into content. We should trace and retrace our steps. No path appears so short as that which is well known. Ah! change is a great error—the variety of existence only reminds us of its weight. Who are the happiest individuals
