What is life but an unpleasant interruption to a peaceful nonexistence.

There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving.

Our responsibility is much greater than we might have supposed, because it involves all mankind.

It answers the question that was tormenting you: my love, you are not 'one thing in my life' - not even the most important - because my life no longer belongs to me because...you are always me.

You see, I'm fond of teasing, it's a second nature with me—and I'm used to teasing myself. Plaguing myself, if you prefer; I don't tease nicely.

The viable jewels of life remain untouched when man forgets his vocation of searching for the truth of his existence.

What never vary are the necessities of being in the world, of having to labor and to die there.