Love isn't actually a feeling at all--it's an illness, a certain condition of body and soul.... Usually it takes possession of someone without his permission, all of a sudden, against his will--just like cholera or a fever.

You may live a long while with some people and be on friendly terms with them and never speak openly with them from your soul.

In my case there was no first love. I began with the second.

Nature is not a temple, but a workshop, and man's the workman in it.

Youth eats all the sugared fancy cakes and regards them as its daily bread. But there'll come a time when you'll start asking just for a crust.

Whatever man prays for, he prays for a miracle. Every prayer reduces itself.

The past was a dream wasn't it? And who ever remembers dreams?