Destiny is simply the relentless logic of each day we live.

The brave men die in war. It takes great luck or judgment not to be killed. Once‚ at least‚ the head has to bow and the knee has to bend to danger. The soldiers who march back under the triumphal arches are death's deserters.

A faithful woman looks to the spring, a good book, perfume, earthquakes, and divine revelation for the experience others find in a lover. They deceive their husbands, so to speak, with the entire world, men excepted.

Everyone always dies for his country. If you have lived in it, well and wisely and actively, you die for it too.

I'm not afraid of death. It's the stake one puts up in order to play the game of life.

There are no elements so diverse that they cannot be joined in the heart of a man.

Only the mediocre are always at their best.