I believe love produces a certain flowering of the whole personality which nothing else can achieve.

However passionate, sinning, and rebellious the heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep serenely at us with their innocent eyes; they tell us not of eternal peace alone, of that great peace of "indifferent" nature: they tell us, too, of eternal reconciliation and of life without end.

One may speak about anything on earth with fire, with enthusiasm, with ecstasy, but one only speaks about oneself with avidity.

I am a flirt: I have no heart: I have an actor's nature.

I was as happy as a fish in water, and I could have stayed in that room for ever, have never left that place.

Each individual is more or less dimly aware of his significance, is aware that he's something innately superior, something eternal--and lives, is obligated to live, in the moment and for the moment.

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