I'm not full of virtues and noble qualities. I love, but I love strongly, exclusive, stedfasty.
A man is not a wall, whose stones are crushed upon the road; or a pipe, whose fragments are thrown away at a street corner. The fragments of an intellect are always good.
Happiness lies in the consciousness we have of it.
Lying, like license, has its degrees.
Life in common among people who love each other is the ideal of happiness.
I regard as a mortal sin not only the lying of the senses in matters of love, but also the illusion which the senses seek to create where love is only partial. I say, I believe, that one must love with all of one's being, or else live, come what may, a life of complete chastity.