We spend our life, it's ours, trying to bring together in the same instant a ray of sunshine and a free bench

Unhappy, but not unhappy enough.

Silence, yes, but what silence! For it is all very fine to keep silence, but one has also to consider the kind of silence one keeps.

For the only way one can speak of nothing is to speak of it as though it were something, just as the only way one can speak of God is to speak of him as though he were a man, which to be sure he was, in a sense, for a time, and as the only way one can speak of man, even our anthropologists have realized that, is to speak of him as though he were a termite.

Enough. Sudden enough. Sudden all far. No move and sudden all far. All least. Three pins. One pinhole. In dimmost dim. Vasts apart. At bounds of boundless void. Whence no farther. Best worse no farther. Nohow less. Nohow worse. Nohow naught. Nohow on.

As it is with the love of the body, so with the friendship of the mind, the full is only reached by admittance to the most retired places.

How can one better magnify the Almighty than by sniggering with him at his little jokes, particularly the poorer ones?