A single metaphor can give birth to love.

No act is of itself either good or bad. Only its place in the order of things makes it good or bad.

For Sabina, living in truth, lying neither to ourselves nor to others, was possible only away from the public: the moment someone keeps an eye on what we do, we involuntarily make allowances for that eye, and nothing we do is truthful. Having a public, keeping a public in mind, means living in lies.

Facts mean little compared to attitudes. To contradict rumor or sentiment is as futile as arguing against a believer's faith in the Immaculate Conception. You have simply become a victim of faith, Comrade Assistant.

Extremism means borders beyond which life ends, and a passion for extremism, in art and in politics, is a veiled longing for death.

The worst thing is not that the world is unfree, but that people have unlearned their liberty.

At the end of true love is death, and only the love that ends in death is love.