Let a man in a garret but burn with enough intensity and he will set fire to the world.

What was my body to me? A kind of flunkey in my service. Let but my anger wax hot, my love grow exalted, my hatred collect in me, and that boasted solidarity between me and my body was gone.

True, it is evil that a single man should crush the herd, but see not there the worse form of slavery, which is when the herd crushes out the man.

It is the savor of bread broken with comrades that makes us accept the values of war.

If I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked, I should walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water.

To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown−ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures.

But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.