The wise man is astonished by anything.

There is no prejudice that the work of art does not finally overcome.

Old hands soil, it seems, whatever they caress, but they too have their beauty when they are joined in prayer. Young hands were made for caresses and the sheathing of love. It is a pity to make them join too soon.

The reasons that drive me to write are many and the most important are the most secret, I think. Perhaps most of all this: to put something out of death's reach.

Understand that the only possession of any value is life.

But can one still make resolutions when one is over forty? I live according to twenty-year-old habits.

God depends on us. It is through us that God is achieved.