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

Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in this world.

Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends

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

There comes a day when, for someone who has persecuted us, we feel only indifference, a weariness at his stupidity. Then we forgive him.

The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.

We never remember days, only moments.