Truth is on the march, and nothing will stop it.

The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.

When sometimes, behind his back, they called him a tyrant, he merely smiled and uttered this profound observation: If some day I turn liberal, they will say I have let them down.

Did not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?

I am spending delightful afternoons in my garden, watching everything living around me. As I grow older, I feel everything departing, and I love everything with more passion.

There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.

When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for one another's lips. Lovers are made by a kiss.