I wonder if we are all wrong about each other, if we are just composing unwritten novels about the people we meet?

... it matters not what natural endowment a race may have if it prostitutes itself to the service of death.

Unhappy people are dangerous.

Why must you always try to be omnipotent, and shove things about? Tragic things happen sometimes that we just have to submit to.

Without doubt cats are intellectuals who have been, by some mysterious decree of Providence, deprived of the comfort of the word.

The unsuccessful bully can always become the father of a family.

The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you.