We possess only the happiness we able to understand.
Sacrifice may be a flower that virtue will pluck on its road, but it was not to gather this flower that virtue set forth on its travels.
To be happy is only to have freed one's soul from the unrest of unhappiness.
The value of ourselves is but the value of our melancholy and our disquiet.
The true sage is not he who sees, but he who, seeing the furthest, has the deepest love for mankind.
How strangely do we diminish a thing as soon as we try to express it in words.