There was a rock in front of my hut, a tall, gray rock. By its looks it seemed to be well-disposed toward me.

I love three things," I then say. "I love a dream of love I once had, I love you, and I love this patch of earth." "And which do you love best?" "The dream.

I stood in the lee of an overhanging rock and thought of many things.

But what really matters is not what you believe but the faith and conviction with which you believe.

When good befalls a man he calls it Providence, when evil fate.

No, I don't admire the genius. But I admire and love the result of the genius's activity in the world, of which the great man is only the poor necessary tool, only, so to speak, the paltry awl to bore with.

...I will exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip my lips out if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or in death, I tell you goodbye.