It seems to me that the earth belongs to God who made it and entrusted it to men as a perpetual home. But it cannot have been part of His plan that some men should be ill with overfeeding and that others should die of starvation. No matter what anyone can say they cannot prevent me from feeling sad and angry when I see a beggar crying at a rich man's door.

Our work can never be better than we are ourselves.

The capacity for passion is both cruel and divine.

When I tried to draw near, you dissolved into air before my lips could touch you...

Where there is no longer love, there is no longer anything.

honesty dies in selling itself.

... what is there over which the incomparable beauty of childhood would not triumph?