The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through a pale haze of spring.
To be able to look life in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it?
Why do we call all our generous ideas illusions, and the mean ones truths?
It was harder to drown at sunrise than in darkness.
It must be less wicked to love the wrong person than not to love anybody at all.
It seems stupid to have discovered America only to make it into a copy of another country.