There is not any memory with less satisfaction than the memory of some temptation we resisted.

Time changes all things and cultivates even in herself an appreciation of irony, and, therefore, why shouldn't I have changed a trifle?

Love, I take it, must look toward something not quite accessible, something not quite understood.

The only way of rendering life endurable is to drink as much wine as one can come by.

Sad hours and glad hours, and all hours, pass over; One thing unshaken stays: Life, that hath Death for spouse, hath Chance for lover; Whereby decays, Each thing save one thing: mid this strife diurnal, Of hourly change begot, Love that is God-born, bides as God eternal, And changes not; Nor means a tinseled dream pursuing lovers, Find altered by-and-bye, When, with possession, time anon discovers, Trapped dreams must die, - For he that visions God, of mankind gathers, One manlike trait alone, And reverently imputes to Him a father's love for his son.

Every notion that any man, dead, living, or unborn, might form as to the universe will necessarily prove wrong

I have followed after the truth, across this windy planet upon which every person is nourished by one or another lie.