For one cannot change, that is to say become another person, while continuing to acquiesce to the feelings of the person one no longer is.

It is often hard to bear the tears that we ourselves have caused.

There is no idea that does not carry in itself a possible refutation, no word that does not imply its opposite.

We live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom: our body.

It is up to my spirit to find the truth. But how? Grave uncertainty, each time the spirit feels beyond its own comprehension; whenit, the explorer, is altogether to obscure land that it must search and where all its baggage is of no use. To search? That is not all: to create.

We do not succeed in changing things according to our desire, but gradually our desire changes.

It is not because other people are dead that our affection for them grows faint, it is because we ourselves are dying.