My entire soul is a cry, and all my work is a commentary on that cry.

I said to the almond tree, 'Sister, speak to me of God.' And the almond tree blossomed.

God sends rain, but He also sends hoods; and when the rain grows heavier, He sends a cave.

With the world in the state it is today, whoever is virtuous must be so to the point of sainthood, and even beyond; whoever is a sinner must be so to the point of bestiality and even beyond. Today the middle road is no more.

I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.

The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.

What a strange machine man is! You fill him with bread, wine, fish, and radishes, and out comes sighs, laughter, and dreams.