The truth is that everyone is bored, and devotes himself to cultivating habits.

Heroism is accessible. Happiness is more difficult.

Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.

That's the way man is, cher monsieur. He has two faces: he can't love without self-love.

Every minute of life carries with it its miraculous value, and its face of eternal youth.

Believe me, the hardest thing for a man to give up is that which he really doesn't want, after all.

Have you no hope at all? And do you really live with the thought that when you die, you die, and nothing remains?" "Yes," I said.