I have a voice, too, and for good or evil mine is the speech that cannot be silenced

The question is not how to get cured, but how to live.

I -- I alone know how to mourn for him as he deserves.' But while we were still shaking hands, such a look of awful desolation came upon her face that I perceived she was one of those creatures that are not the playthings of Time. For her he had died only yesterday. And, by Jove! the impression was so powerful that for me, too, he seemed to have died only yesterday -- nay, this very minute. I saw her and him in the same instant of time -- his death and her sorrow -- I saw her sorrow in the very moment of his death. Do you understand? I saw them together -- I heard them together.

The revolutionary spirit is mighty convenient in this, that it frees one from all scruples as regards ideas.

In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent.

An artist is a man of action, whether he creates a personality, invents an expedient, or finds the issue of a complicated situation.

I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmostphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary.