Books worth reading are worth re-reading.

Past and present, it is all the same, books are necromancers, they exercise an influence more varied, more lasting, than any magic known to man.

Books are never out of humour; never envious or jealous, they answer all questions with readiness; ... they teach us how to live and how to die; they dispel melancholy by their mirth, and amuse by their wit; they prepare the soul to suffer everything and desire nothing; they introduce us to ourselves.

Intuition is reason in a hurry.

Forgive everybody but yourself.

As soon as an idea is accepted it is time to reject it.

A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with "a sort of greedy enjoyment," as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was "saturated with the bouquet of silence."