I have thought a sufficient measure of civilization is the influence of good women.

A man in a cave or in a camp, a nomad, will die with no more estate than the wolf or the horse leaves.

Do you see that kitten chasing so prettily her own tail? If you could look with her eyes, you might see her surrounded with hundreds of figures performing complex dramas, with tragic and comic issues, long conversations, many characters, many ups and downs of fate.

In certain men digestion and sex absorb the vital force, and the stronger these are, the individual is so much weaker. The more ofthese drones perish, the better for the hive.

Ennui shortens life, and bereaves the day of its light.

Every man's condition is a solution in hieroglyph to those inquiries he would put. He acts it as life before he apprehends it as truth.

The thing done avails, and not what is said about it.