... the song of the world is all of love.

Death is the advertisement, at the end of an autobiography, wherein people discover its virtues.

If we all tried to make other people's paths easy, our own feet would have a smooth even place to walk on.

Before, you think of it as a permanent bond of happiness; later, you see that it is a yoke, borne unequally. You marry to keep love, but sometimes that is the surest way to lose it.

[On marriage:] Someone once said that it was like a crowded church - those outside were endeavouring to get in, and those inside were making violent efforts to get out.

There is only one path which leads to the house of forgiveness - that of understanding.

The appointed thing comes at the appointed time in the appointed way.