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!

One of the hardest labours of the just man is to expunge from his soul a malevolence which it is difficult to efface.

Life is the flower for which love is the honey.

The man who fights against his own country is never a hero.

Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.

A bit of mould is a pleiad of flowers; a nebula is an ant-hill of stars.

Men like me are impossible until the day when they become necessary.