Our civilization is still in a middle stage, scarcely beast, in that it is no longer wholly guided by instinct; scarcely human, in that it is not yet wholly guided by reason.

Remember, love is all a woman has to give, but it is the only thing which God permits us to carry beyond the grave.

Love is the only thing you can really give in all this world. When you give love, you give everything.

Nature, machine-like, works definitely and heartlessly, if in the main beautifully. Hence, if we, as individuals, do not make this dream of a god or what he stands for us real in our thoughts and deeds, then he is not real or true.

In order to have wisdom we must have ignorance.

Art is the stored honey of the human soul, gathered on wings of misery and travail.

Life is a God-damned, stinking, treacherous game and nine hundred and ninety-nine men out of a thousand are bastards.