Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.

An entire lifetime would not be long enough for you to exhaust the glance of the young harvest-girl.

When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.

Let us eat, drink and satisfy our coarse appetites, but let us keep our souls sacred and apart.

They talked so, with secret hearts, without needing words, talking of other things... They could have suddenly continued their confessions aloud, without ceasing to understand each other.

The vague torment of ... ambition.

They dared not peer down into their own natures, down into the feverish confusion that filled their minds with a kind of dense, acrid mist.