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.

One completely overcomes only what one assimilates.

The bad novelist constructs his characters; he directs them and makes them speak. The true novelist listens to them and watches them act; he hears their voices even before he knows them.

The wise man is astonished by anything.

Most often people seek in life occasions for persisting in their opinions rather than for educating themselves.

Fish die belly upward, and rise to the surface. Its their way of falling.

Fear of ridicule begets the worst cowardice.