The new vulcanism is really a daring attempt to connect the present, incomprehensible world to a past, unknown one.

The aim of living is life itself.

We can always redeem the man who aspires and strives.

We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmosphere about which we still know nothing at all.

To me the external existence of my soul is proved from my idea of activity. If I work incessantly until my death, nature will give me another form of existence when the present can no longer sustain my spirit.

Against great advantages in another, there are no means of defending ourselves except love.

A life without love, without the presence of the beloved, is nothing but a mere magic-lantern show. We draw out slide after slide, swiftly tiring of each, and pushing it back to make haste for the next.