The pupil dilates in darkness and in the end finds light, just as the soul dilates in misfortune and in the end finds God.

The repose of darkness is deeper on the water than on the land.

For true poetry, complete poetry, consists in the harmony of contraries. Hence, it is time to say aloud--and it is here above allthat exceptions prove the rule--that everything that exists in nature exists in art.

Mothers arms are made of tenderness, And sweet sleep blesses the child who lies therein.

Puns are the droppings of soaring wits.

It is by suffering that human beings become angels.

There are moments when a rope's end, a pole, the branch of the tree, is life itself, and it is a frightful thing to see a living being lose his hold upon it, and fall like a ripe fruit.