I know simply that the sky will last longer than I.

Somebody has to have the last word. If not, every argument could be opposed by another and we'd never be done with it.

Although it was the middle of winter, I finally realized that, within me, summer was inextinguishable.

Don't lies eventually lead to the truth? And don't all my stories, true or false, tend toward the same conclusion? Don't they all have the same meaning? So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and what I am? Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.

Whoever gives nothing, has nothing. The greatest misfortune is not to be unloved, but not to love.

It's not your pictures I like; it's your painting.

There may be responsible persons, but there are no guilty ones.