Time is the sea in which men grow, are born, or die.

... it is a matter of civilizing everyone or not being civilized at all: the decay has always come from a partial civilization.

The true call of the desert, of the mountains, or the sea, is their silence - free of the networks of dead speech.

The true gardener then brushes over the ground with slow and gentle hand, to liberate a space for breath round some favorites; but he is not thinking about destruction except incidentally. It is only the amateur like myself who becomes obsessed and rejoices with a sadistic pleasure in weeds that are big and bad enough to pull, and at last, almost forgetting the flowers altogether, turns into a Reformer.

What I find trying in a country which you do not understand and where you cannot speak, is that you can never be yourself.

I do like people who have not yet made up their minds about everything, who in fact are still receiving

From love one can only escape at the price of life itself; and no lessening of sorrow is worth exile from that stream of all things human and divine.