Everything has been said before, but since nobody listens we have to keep going back and beginning all over again.

Nothing is more fatal to happiness than the remembrance of happiness.

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 true hypocrite is the one who ceases to perceive his deception, the one who lies with sincerity.

Every instant of our lives is essentially irreplaceable: you must know this in order to concentrate on life.

Oh, would that my mind could let fall its dead ideas, as the tree does its withered leaves!

The color of truth is gray.