Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can't be sure.

I make myself strict rules in order to correct my nature. But it is my nature that I finally obey.

In the vast reaches of the dry, cold night, thousands of stars were constantly appearing, and their sparkling icicles, loosened at once, began to slip gradually toward the horizon.

When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune.

Fancy language, like poplin, too often conceals an eczema.

The sense of doing good , the satisfaction of being right, the joy of looking favorably upon oneself, dear sir, are powerful levers for keeping us upright and making us progress. On the other hand, if men are deprived of that feeling, they are changed into rabid dogs.

Greatness consists in trying to be great. There is no other way.