It is strange what a contempt men have for the joys that are offered them freely.

Let us lose none of their humble words, let us note their slightest gestures, and tell me, tell me that we will think of them together, now and later, when we realise the misery of the times and the magnitude of their sacrifice.

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.

It is always brave to say what everyone thinks.

No doubt about it: error is the rule, truth is the accident of error.

I can no longer think what I want to think. My thoughts have been replaced by moving images.

The man who has entered into a beautiful union is sure of at least one person to whom he can give the best that he possesses.