Think of the wonderful circles in which our whole being moves and from which we cannot escape no matter how we try. The circler circles in these circles.

It is useless to contend with the irresistible power of Time, which goes on continually creating by a process of constant destruction.

How prone poor Humanity is to dam up the minutest remnants of its freedom, and build an artificial roof to prevent it looking up to the clear blue sky.

It is only in the morning that one should marry, read unfavourable reviews, make one's will, beat one's servants, and so forth.

There is nothing more marvelous or madder than real life.

Human beings ought not to draw in their antennae at every ungentle touch, like supersensitive insects.

Is it not in the most absolute simplicity that real genius plies its pinions the most wonderfully?