Man is but a network of relationships and these alone matter to him.
For, to conceited men, all other men are admirers.
It's hard luck always having to be a judge.
The thing that is important is the thing that is not seen.
Mad is the man who is forever gritting his teeth against that granite block, complete and changeless, of the past.
And at night I love to listen to the stars. It is like five hundred million little bells.