All human beings hang by a thread, an abyss may open under their feet at any moment, and yet they have to go and invent all sortsof difficulties for themselves and spoil their lives.

So long as one's just dreaming about what to do, one can soar like an eagle and move mountains, it seems, but as soon as one starts doing it one gets worn out and tired.

I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.

Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you?

We’re young, we’re not monsters, no fools: we’ll conquer happiness for ourselves.

What a magnificent body, how I should like to see it on the dissecting table.

He was the soul of politeness to everyone -- to some with a hint of aversion, to others with a hint of respect.