Just when the question of how to live had become clearer to him, a new insoluble problem presented itself - Death.

There is no greatness where there is no simplicity, goodness and truth.

It is by those who have suffered that the world has been advanced.

He felt that all his hitherto dissipated and dispersed forces were gathered and directed with terrible energy towards one blissful goal.

The whole trouble lies in that people think that there are conditions excluding the necessity of love in their intercourse with man, but such conditions do not exist. Things may be treated without love; one may chop wood, make bricks, forge iron without love, but one can no more deal with people without love than one can handle bees without care.

She put both her hands on his shoulders and gazed at him long, with a deep look of ecstasy and yet searchingly. She scrutinized his face to make up for the time she had not seen him. She compared, as she did at every interview with him, the image her fancy painted of him (incomparably finer than, and impossible in actual existence) with his real self.

Once we're thrown off our habitual paths, we think all is lost, but it's only here that the new and the good begins.