In the dark, time feels different than when it is light.

The love of indulgence is rooted in the depths of a man's heart. His soul would prefer to share the excessive and unrestrained; but his soul cannot love.

Whatever the State saith is a lie; whatever it hath is a theft: all is counterfeit in it, the gnawing, sanguinary, insatiate monster.

I love those who do not know how to live, except by going under, for they are those who cross over.

Loving and perishing: it's been a rhyme all these eternities. The will to love: that is, also being willing to die.

When a scholar of the old culture vows no longer to have anything to do with men who believe in progress, he is right. For the old culture has its greatness and goodness behind it, and an historical education forces one to admit that it can never again be fresh.

There are no eternal facts, as there are no absolute truths.