Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.

I do not believe that any human being is fundamentally happier for being finally lost in a crowd, even if it is called a crowd of comrades.

There are no words to express the abyss between isolation and having one ally.

None of the modern machines, none of the modern paraphernalia. . . have any power except over the people who choose to use them.

Tolerance is the virtue of people who do not believe in anything.

The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land.

I had always felt life first as a story: and if there is a story there is a story-teller