Each of us really understands in others only those feelings he is capable of producing himself.

Most quarrels amplify a misunderstanding.

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

Obsessions of the Orient, of the desert, of its ardor and its emptiness, of the shadows of palm gardens, of the garments white and wide - obsessions where the senses go berserk, where nerves are exasperated, and which made me, at the onset of each night, believe sleep impossible.

I prefer granting with a good grace what I know I shan't be able to prevent.

What would there be in a story of happiness? Only what prepares it, only what destroys it can be told.

Clear and precise ideas are the most dangerous, for one does not dare to change them.