The man who cannot live with charity, sharing other men's pain, is punished by feeling his own with intolerable anguish.

We commit two wrongs when we fail to right a wrong.

Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things: air, sleep, dreams, sea, the sky - all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.

If it were possible to have a life absolutely free from every feeling of sin, what a terrifying vacuum it would be.

One stops being a child when one realizes that telling one's trouble does not make it any better.

It is not that the child lives in a world of imagination, but that the child within us survives and starts into life only at rare moments of recollection, which makes us believe, and it is not true, that, as children, we were imaginative?

A work settles nothing, just as the labor of a whole generation settles nothing. Sons, and the morrow, always start afresh.