We swung between madness and suicide ... it was beautiful!

There are some men whose only mission among others is to act as intermediaries; one crosses them like bridges and keeps going.

What is beautiful is moral, that is all there is to it.

In her enthusiasms she had always looked for something tangible: she had always loved church for its flowers, music for its romantic words, literature for its power to stir the passions and she rebelled before the mysteries of faith just as she grew ever more restive under discipline, which was antipathetic to her nature.

Years passed; and he endured the idleness of his intelligence and the inertia of his heart.

Melancholy is a sensual pleasure that is deliberately provoked. How many people shut themselves away to make themselves sadder, or to weep beside a stream, or choose a sentimental book! We are constantly building and unbuilding ourselves.

To be simple is no small matter.