To love someone is to see a miracle invisible to others.

I believe that only poetry counts ... A great novelist is first of all a great poet.

Human love is often but the encounter of two weaknesses.

Men resemble great deserted palaces: the owner occupies only a few rooms and has closed-off wings where he never ventures.

The scapegoat has always had the mysterious power of unleashing man's ferocious pleasure in torturing, corrupting, and befouling.

The grandeur of man lies in song, not in thought.

A man's passion for the mountain is, above all, his childhood which refuses to die.