Mud, raised by hurricanes, wells up in the noblest and purest of hearts.

We flew back home like swallows. 'Is it happiness that makes us so light?' Agathe asked.

Events are never absolute, their outcome depends entirely upon the individual. Misfortune is a stepping stone for a genius, a piscina for a Christian, a treasure for a man of parts, and an abyss for a weakling.

I believe in the incomprehensibility of God.

Society proceeds like the ocean. After a disaster, it resume its wonted level and rhythms; its devouring interests efface all traces of damage.

In a world of hunchbacks, a fine figure becomes a monstrosity.

Above all do not ask that justice be just: It is just, because it is justice. The idea of a just justice could have originated only in the brain of an anarchist.