I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.

Someone said: "I have been prejudiced against myself from my earliest childhood: hence I find some truth in all blame and some stupidity in all praise. I generally estimate praise too poorly and blame too highly.

One pays dearly for being immortal: one must die many times during his life.

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

God is a thought who makes crooked all that is straight.

I hate who steals my solitude, without really offer me in exchange company.