Gaston: [singing] I'm especially good at expectorating… [spits]

When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

There is nothing more tragic than to find an individual bogged down in the length of life, devoid of breadth.

A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?

Have a place for everything and keep the thing somewhere else; this is not advice, it is merely custom.