The true word leads; the untrue misleads.

My grandfather used to say: Life is astoundingly short. To me, looking back over it, life seems so foreshortened that I scarcely understand, for instance, how a young man can decide to ride over to the next village without being afraid that -not to mention accidents- even the span of a normal happy life may fall far short of the time needed for such a journey.

All language is but a poor translation.

Either the world is so tiny or we are enormous; in either case, we fill it completely.

A belief is like a guillotine, just as heavy, just as light.

The limited circle is pure.

Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty.