I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself
One sheds one's sicknesses in books - repeats and presents again one's emotions, to be master of them.
That is almost the whole of Russian literature: the phenomenal coruscations of the souls of quite commonplace people.
In every living thing there is the desire for love.
That which one cannot experience in daily life is not true for oneself.
It is only when men lose their contact with this eternal life-flame, and become merely personal, things in themselves, instead ofthings kindled in the flame, that the fight between man and woman begins.