Men try to run life according to their wishes; life runs itself according to necessity.
I am not less poet; I am more conscious of all that I am, am not, and might become.
Whatever I believed, I did; I did with my whole heart and mind as far as possible to do so.
Fear is a noose that binds until it strangles.
There is no such thing as happiness. Life bends joy and pain, beauty and ugliness, in such a way that no one may isolate them. No one should want to. Perfect joy, or perfect pain, with no contrasting element to define them, would mean a monotony of consciousness, would mean death
Perhaps . . . our lot on the earth is to seek and to search. Now and again we find just enough to enable us to carry on. I now doubt that any of us will completely find and be found in this life.