The ode lives upon the ideal, the epic upon the grandiose, the drama upon the real.

Do you hear the people sing Lost in the valley of the night? It is the music of a people Who are climbing to the light. For the wretched of the earth There is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end And the sun will rise.

His whole life was now summed up in two words: absolute uncertainty within an impenetrable fog.

Women play with their beauty as children do with their knives. They wound themselves with it.

When I speak to you about myself, I am speaking to you about yourself. How is it you don't see that?

A man is not idle because he is absorbed in thought. There is a visible labor and there is an invisible labor.

In short, I am doing what I can, I suffer with the same universal suffering, and I try to assuage it, I possess only the puny forces of a man, and I cry to all: “Help me!