Love is faith and one faith leads to another.

Our systems, perhaps, are nothing more than an unconscious apology for our faults, a gigantic scaffolding whose object is to hide from us our favorite sin.

The soul may be immortal because she is fitted to rise towards that which is neither born nor dies, towards that which exists substantially, necessarily, invariably, that is to say towards God.

Wisdom consists in rising superior both to madness and to common sense, and is lending oneself to the universal illusion without becoming its dupe.

What we call little things are merely the causes of great things.

We are never more discontented with others than when we are discontented with ourselves.

Truth above all, even when it upsets us and overwhelms us.