Great blunders are often made, like large ropes, of a multitude of fibers. Take the cable thread by thread, take separately all the little determining motives, you break them one after another, and you say: that is all! Wind them and twist them together, they become an enormity.

Why worry about what threatens our heads or purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.

Love is the salutation of the angel to the stars

The production of souls is the secret of unfathomable depth.

The convent is supreme egotism resulting in supreme self-denial.

A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.

The real, native South Seas food is lousy. You can't eat it.