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

Someone who does not write books, who thinks a lot, and who lives in unsatisfying society will usually be a good letter- writer.

Ultimately one loves one's desires and not that which is desired.

Sometimes in our relationship to another human being the proper balance of friendship is restored when we put a few grains of impropriety onto our own side of the scale.

The disappointed one speaks. I searched for great human beings; I always found only the apes of their ideals.

Sleeping is no mean art: for its sake one must stay awake all day.

When self control is lacking in small things, the ability to apply it to matters of importance withers away. Every day in which one does not at least deny himself some trifle is badly spent and a threat to the day following.