But the conceited man did not hear him. Conceited people never hear anything but praise.

No destiny attacks us from outside. But, within him, man bears his fate and there comes a moment when he knows himself vulnerable; and then, as in a vertigo, blunder upon blunder lures him.

Prison is not a mere physical horror. It is using a pickaxe to no purpose that makes a prison.

The seed haunted by the sun never fails to find its way between the stones in the ground. And the pure logician, if no sun draws him forth, remains entangled in his logic.

Truth is not that which is demonstrable but that which is ineluctable.

He who bears in his heart a cathedral to be built is already victorious. He who seeks to become sexton of a finished cathedral is already defeated.

Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.