We are all in a race for dear life: that is to say, we are fugitives from death.

The small share of happiness attainable by man exists only insofar as he is able to cease to think of himself.

The lover is a monotheist who knows that other people worship different gods but cannot himself imagine that there could be other gods.

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love.

Work and love; these are the basics. Without them there is neurosis.

Even the wisest men make fools of themselves about women, and even the most foolish women are wise about men

We are all in a race for dear life: that is to say, we are fugitives from death.