In the domain of art there is no light without heat.

On this point, the priest and the philosopher agree: We must die.

Nature, like a kind and smiling mother, lends herself to our dreams and cherishes our fancies.

The aim of art is almost divine: to bring to life again if it is writing history, to create if it is writing poetry.

War can only be qualified by its object, and there is neither foreign war nor civil war, there is only just or unjust war.

If you are leaving that sorrowful place with hate and anger against men, you are worthy of compassion; if you leave it with good will, gentleness and peace, you are better than any of us.

If the infinite had no me, then me would be its limit. It would not be the infinite, therefore it would not be.