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.

The wind in the grain is the caress to the spouse; it is the hand of peace stroking her hair.

To be a man is to feel that one's own stone contributes to building the edifice of the world.

Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.

C'est véritablement utile puisque c'est joli. It is truly useful since it is beautiful.

How could there be any question of acquiring or possessing, when the one thing needful for a man is to become - to be at last, and to die in the fullness of his being.