The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes.

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

One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.

I can't expect others to share my virtues. It's good enough for me if they share my vices.

It is only in adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves - in finding themselves.

The loveliest creations of men are persistently painful. What would be the description of happiness? Nothing, except what prepares and then what destroys it.

To be sure, theory is useful. But without warmth of heart and without love it bruises the very ones it claims to save.