No time of life is so beautiful as the early days of love, when with every meeting, every glance, one fetches something new home to rejoice over.

The conclusions of passion are the only reliable ones.

On the secretly blushing cheek is reflected the glow of the heart

I am so fed up and joyless that not only have I nothing to fill my soul, I cannot even conceive of anything that could possibly satisfy it - alas, not even the bliss of heaven.

Your own tactic is to train yourself in the art of becoming enigmatic to everybody. My young friend, suppose there was no one who troubld himself to guess your riddle--what joy, then, would you have in it?

And when the hourglass has run out, the hourglass of temporality, when the noise of secular life has grown silent and its restless or ineffectual activism has come to an end, when everything around you is still, as it is in eternity, then eternity asks you and every individual in these millions and millions about only one thing: whether you have lived in despair or not.

Christians remind me of schoolboys who want to look up the answers to their math problems in the back of the book rather than work them through.