There is no suicide for which all society is not responsible.

No one can achieve Serenity until the glare of passion is past the meridian.

The only happy talkers are dandies who extract pleasure from the very perishability of their material and who would not be able to tolerate the isolation of all other forms of composition; for most good talkers, when they have run down, are miserable; they know that they have betrayed themselves, that they have taken material which should have a life of its own, to dispense it in noises upon the air.

Our memories are card indexes consulted and then returned in disorder by authorities whom we do not control.

We create the world in which we live; if that world becomes unfit for human life, it is because we tire of our responsibility.

Youth is a period of missed opportunities.

What grape to keep its place in the sun, taught our ancestors to make wine?