Griefs, at the moment when they change into ideas, lose some of their power to injure our heart.

Happiness serves hardly any other purpose than to make unhappiness possible.

An hour is not merely an hour, it is a vase full of scents and sounds and projects and climates.

Thanks to art, instead of seeing one world, our own, we see it multiplied and as many original artists as there are, so many worlds are at our disposal.

Let a prize lower my position, if it causes me to be read; that I prefer immediately to all the honors.

...Hard people are weak people whom nobody wants, and the strong, caring little whether they are wanted or not, have alone that meekness which the common herd mistake for weakness.

Griefs, at the moment when they change into ideas, lose some of their power to injure our heart.