We are less justified in saying that the thinking life of humanity is a miraculous perfectioning of animal and physical life than that it is an imperfection in the organization of spiritual life as rudimentary as the communal existence of protozoa in colonies.

The great quality of true art is that it rediscovers, grasps and reveals to us that reality far from where we live, from which we get farther and farther away as the conventional knowledge we substitute for it becomes thicker and more impermeable.

A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

We passionately long that there may be another life in which we shall be similar to what we are here below. But we do not pause to reflect that, even without waiting for that other life, in this life, after a few years we are unfaithful to what we have been, to what we wished to remain immortally.

My destination is no longer a place, rather a new way of seeing.

The charms of the passing woman are generally in direct ratio to the swiftness of our passage.

Time passes, and little by little everything that we have spoken in falsehood becomes true.