Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.

I do not know the meaning of my sadness; there is an old fairy tale that I cannot get out of my mind.

All I really want is enough to live on, a little house in the country... and a tree in the garden with seven of my enemies hanging in it.

Talking and eloquence are not the same: to speak and to speak well are two things. A fool may talk, but a wise man speaks.

I wept in my dreams. I dreamed you lay in the grave; I awoke, and the tears still poured down my cheeks. I wept in my dreams, I dreamed you had left me; I awoke and I went on weeping long and bitterly. I wept in my dreams, I dreamed you were still kind to me; I awoke, and still the flow of my tears streams on.

Whenever books are burned, men also in the end are burned.

We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged