The world doesn't make any heroes anymore.
...every monologue sooner or later becomes a discussion.
I can never think of you as a friend. You can do without a friend.
Despair is the price one pays for setting himself an impossible aim.
When I replied that I loved her too in that way, I was the liar, not she, for I never lose the consciousness of time: to me the present is never here: it is always last year or next week.
Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.