The universe without music would be madness.

A refined soul is distressed to know that someone owes it thanks; a crude soul, to know that it owes someone thanks.

I wish to be at any time hereafter only a yea-sayer!

A friend should be a master at guessing and keeping still: you must not want to see everything.

Love, too, has to be learned.

Human life is inexplicable, and still without meaning: a fool may decide its fate.

Books for all the world are always foul-smelling books: the smell of small people clings to them.