There is in every village a torch - the teacher; and an extinguisher - the priest.

No one can keep a secret better than a child.

To rove about, musing, that is to say loitering, is, for a philosopher, a good way of spending time.

To lie a little is not possible: he who lies, lies the whole lie.

At least you are mine! Soon – in a few months, perhaps, my angel will sleep in my arms, will awaken in my arms, will live there. All your thought at all moments, all your looks will be for me; all my thought, all my moments, all my looks will be for you!

We are given up to those gods, those monsters, those giants, — our thoughts.

Such is the remorseless progression of human society, shedding lives and souls as it goes on its way. It is an ocean into which men sink who have been cast out by the law and consigned, with help most cruelly withheld, to moral death. The sea is the pitiless social darkness into which the penal system casts those it has condemned, an unfathomable waste of misery. The human soul, lost in those depths, may become a corpse. Who shall revive it?