Art speaks only to the mind, whereas nature speaks to all the faculties.

One is happy as a result of one's own efforts, once one knows of the necessary ingredients of happiness-simple tastes, a certain degree of courage, self-denial to a point, love of work, and, above all, a clear conscience. Happiness is no vague dream, of that I now feel certain.

... the progress of the language has caused us to lose many old treasures. It is thus with all progress, and one must make the best of it.

One wastes so much time, one is so prodigal of life, at twenty! Our days of winter count for double. That is the compensation of the old.

Try to keep your soul young and quivering right up to old age, and to imagine right up to the brink of death that life is only beginning. I think that is the only way to keep adding to one's talent, and one's inner happiness.

You, stupid one, who believe in laws which punish murder by murder...

When they are among us cats are angels