Mad is the man who is forever gritting his teeth against that granite block, complete and changeless, of the past.

Peace dies when the framework is ripped apart. When there is no longer a place that is yours in the world. When you know no longer where your friend is to be found.

I remembered the fox. One runs the risk of crying a bit if one allows oneself to be tamed.

Defeat is a thing of weariness, of incoherence, of boredom, and above all futility.

Perfection is reachednot when there's nothing to add, but when there's nothing to take away.

The tree is more than first a seed, then a stem, then a living trunk, and then dead timber. The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.

To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible. It is to feel shame at the sight of what seems to be unmerited misery. It is to take pride in a victory won by one's comrades. It is to feel, when setting one's stone, that one is contributing to the building of the world.