and talk well only to themselves
     Nature’s cold indifference to our sufferings
     Negroes, all but monkeys! 
     Neither so simple nor so easy as they at first appeared
     Neither idealist nor realist
     Nervous natures, as prompt to hope as to despair
     Never interfered in what did not concern him
     Never can make revolutions with gloves on
     Never foolish to spend money.  The folly lies in keeping it
     Never is perfect happiness our lot
     Never travel when the heart is troubled! 
     No answer to make to one who has no right to question me
     No longer esteemed her highly enough to be jealous of her
     No one has ever been able to find out what her thoughts were
     No woman is unattainable, except when she loves another
     No flies enter a closed mouth
     No one is so unhappy as to have nothing to give
     No writer had more dislike of mere pedantry
     Nobody troubled himself about that originality
     None but fools resisted the current
     Not everything is known, but everything is said
     Not only his last love, but his only love
     Not more honest than necessary
     Not desirous to teach goodness
     Not an excuse, but an explanation of your conduct
     Nothing is dishonorable which is useful
     Nothing is so legitimate, so human, as to deceive pain
     Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover
     Nothing ever astonishes me
     Notion of her husband’s having an opinion of his own
     Now his grief was his wife, and lived with him
     Obstacles are the salt of all our joys
     Obstinacy of drunkenness
     Of all the sisters of love, the most beautiful is pity
     Offices will end by rendering great names vile
     Often been compared to Eugene Sue, but his touch is lighter
     Old women—­at least thirty years old! 
     Once an excellent remedy, is a detestable regimen
     One who first thought of pasting a canvas on a panel
     One of those beings who die, as they have lived, children
     One is never kind when one is in love
     One half of his life belonged to the poor
     One would think that the wind would put them out:  the stars
     One of those pious persons who always think evil
     One of those trustful men who did not judge when they loved
     One does not judge those whom one loves
     One should never leave the one whom one loves
     One may think of marrying, but one ought not to try to marry
     One amuses one’s self at the risk of dying
     One doesn’t offer apologies to a man in his wrath
     Only a man, wavering and changeable
     Only one thing infamous in love, and that is a falsehood
     Opposing his orders with steady, irritating inertia
     Ordinary, trivial, every-day objects
     Ostensibly you sit at the feast without paying the cost