Even the most honest writer lets slip a word too many when he wants to round off a period.

Call me whatever you like; I am who I must be.

Immortal is the moment when I engendered the recurrence. For the sake of this moment I bear the recurrence.

Among austere men intimacy involves shame--and is something precious.

love as a passion—it is our European specialty—must absolutely be of noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself.

If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event - and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.

Whoever turns away from us might not offend us in doing so perhaps, but he certainly offends our followers.