Kill one man and you're a murderer, kill a million and you're a conqueror.

The divine is perhaps that quality in man which permits him to endure the lack of God.

Falsity cannot keep an idea from being beautiful; there are certain errors of such ingenuity that one could regret their not ranking among the achievements of the human mind.

Hatred, for the man who is not engaged in it, is a little like the odor of garlic for one who hasn't eaten any.

There are big and little truths, but all belong to the same race.

Far too often the choices reality proposes are such as to take away one's taste for choosing.

The books one has written in the past have two surprises in store: one couldn't write them again, and wouldn't want to.