Sometimes I think too much fuss is made about marriage. Century after century of carnal embracement and we're still no nearer to understanding one another.

Love and understand the Italians, for the people are more marvellous than the land.

Science explained people, but could not understand them. After long centuries among the bones and muscles it might be advancing to knowledge of the nerves, but this would never give understanding

There is much good luck in the world, but it is luck. We are none of us safe. We are children, playing or quarrelling on the line.

Words deserted him immediately. He could only speak when he was not asked to.

She only felt that the candle would burn better, the packing go easier, the world be happier, if she could give and receive some human love.

Human relations are impossible. When they are real they are uncomfortable, and when they are comfortable they are unreal. It was for the journey into solitude that the human soul was created.