There are some moments in life, some feelings; one can only point to them and pass by.

Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late. It can give no pleasure, yet it deprives you of that most precious of rights - the right to swear and curse at your fate!

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.

I look up to heaven only when I want to sneeze.

Illness isn't the only thing that spoils the appetite.

So many memories and so little worth remembering, and in front of me - a long, long road without a goal.

Belonging to oneself--the whole essence of life lies in that.