The question is whether [suicide] is the way out, or the way in.

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

I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.

As the traveler who has lost his way, throws his reins on his horse's neck, and trusts to the instinct of the animal to find his road, so must we do with the divine animal who carries us through this world

Faith and love are apt to be spasmodic in the best minds: Men live on the brink of mysteries and harmonies into which yet they never enter, and with their hand on the doorlatch they die outside.

Whilst all the world is in pursuit of power, culture corrects the theory of success.

Only an inventor knows how to borrow, and every man is or should be an inventor.