Can one do nothing for the dead? And for a long time the answer had been - Nothing!

Ah, what happiness it is to be with people who all are happy, to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes.

Who is to decide between 'Let it be' and 'Force it'?

Everything in life that we really accept undergoes a change.

What happiness it is to listen to rain at night; joyful relief, ease; a lapping-round and hushing and brooding tenderness, all are mingled together in the sound of the fast-falling rain. God, looking down upon the rainy earth, sees how faint are these lights shining in little windows, - how easily put out.

I am poor - obscure - just eighteen years of age - with a rapacious appetite for everything and principles as light as my purse.

I feel I must live alone, alone, alone - with artists only to touch the door. Every artist cuts off his ear and nails it on the outside of the door for the others to shout into.