Distraction is the only thing that consoles us for our miseries. Yet it is itself the greatest of our miseries.

We are fools to depend upon the society of our fellow-men. Wretched as we are, powerless as we are, they will not aid us; we shall die alone.

Eloquence is a painting of thought; and thus those who, after having painted it, add something more, make a picture instead of a portrait.

To find recreation in amusement is not happiness.

That which makes us go so far for love is that we never think that we might have need of anything besides that which we love.

We like security: we like the pope to be infallible in matters of faith, and grave doctors to be so in moral questions so that we can feel reassured.

Who knows if this other half of life where we think we're awake is not another sleep a little different from the first.