To be misunderstood even by those whom one loves is the cross and bitterness of life. It is the secret of that sad and melancholy smile on the lips of great men which so few understand.

We are never more discontented with others than when we are discontented with ourselves. The consciousness of wrong-doing makes us irritable, and our heart, in its cunning, quarrels with what is outside it, in order that it may deafen the clamor within.

There is only one way of not hating those who do us wrong, and that is by doing them good.

Music is harmony, harmony is perfection, perfection is our dream, and our dream is heaven.

We are always making God our accomplice so that we may legalize our own inequities.

To live we must conquer incessantly, we must have the courage to be happy.

[T]he habit of scientific analysis ... exhausts the material offered to it.