That's what children are for—that their parents may not be bored.

A son is like a lopped off branch. As a falcon he comes when he wills and goes where he lists.

However much you knock at nature's door, she will never answer you in comprehensible words.

It was only the vulgarly mediocre that repelled her.

Looking about me, listening and recalling what the day had been like, I suddenly felt a secret unease in my heart and raised my eyes to the sky, but even in the sky there seemed to be no tranquillity. Dotted with stars, it constantly quivered and danced and shivered.

I was afraid of looking into my heart...afraid of thinking seriously about anything...I did not want to know whether I was loved, and I did not want to admit to myself that I was not loved.

Nature cares nothing for logic, our human logic: she has her own, which we do not recognize and do not acknowledge until we are crushed under its wheel