It is the mark of a truly intelligent person to be moved by statistics.
Grain by grain, a loaf. Stone upon stone, a palace.
It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace.
The heretic is always better dead. And mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic.
[Chess] is a foolish expedient for making idle people believe they are doing something very clever, when they are only wasting their time.
I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten.