The swimmer adrift on the open seas measures his strength, and strives with all his muscles to keep himself afloat. But what is he to do when there is no land on the horizon, and none beyond it?

Suffering has roused them from the sleep of gentle life, and every day fills them with a terrible intoxication. They are now something more than themselves; those we loved were merely happy shadows.

In the beds which the piety of the public has prepared on every side, stricken men await the verdict of fate.

You conquered the landscape with the soles of shoes, not the tires.

We can know nothing till after this grave debate. The soul must withdraw, for this is not its hour. Now the knife must divide the flesh, and lay the ravage bare, and do its work completely.

We do not know the true value of our moments until they have undergone the test of memory.

To drink is a small matter. To be thirsty is everything.