When we have passed a certain age, the soul of the child we were and the souls of the dead from whom we have sprung come to lavish on us their riches and their spells.

Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.

If we are to make reality endurable, we must all nourish a fantasy or two.

The thirst for something other than what we have…to bring something new, even if it is worse, some emotion, some sorrow; when our sensibility, which happiness has silenced like an idle harp, wants to resonate under some hand, even a rough one, and even if it might be broken by it.

In theory one is aware that the earth revolves, but in practice one does not perceive it, the ground upon which one treads seems not to move, and one can live undisturbed. So it is with Time in one's life.

Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.