An administration, like a machine, does not create. It carries on.

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

Trying to be witty leads to lying, more or less.

How is it possible for one to own the stars?" "To whom do they belong?" the businessman retorted, peevishly. "I don't know. To nobody.

Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses.

What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it.

You give birth to that on which you fix your mind