The man who does not know other languages, unless he is a man of genius, necessarily has deficiencies in his ideas.

The world of sleep has an existence of its own.

She was sad with an obscure sadness of which she had not the secret herself. There was in her whole person the stupor of a life ended but never commenced.

There are no weeds, and no worthless men. There are only bad farmers.

Primitive times are lyrical, ancient times epical, modern times dramatic. The ode sings of eternity, the epic imparts solemnity tohistory, the drama depicts life. The characteristic of the first poetry is ingeniousness, of the second, simplicity, of the third, truth.

I represent a party which does not yet exist: the party Revolution-Civilization. This party will make the twentieth century. There will issue from it first the United States of Europe, then the United States of the World.

At a certain depth of distress, the poor, in their stupor, groan no longer over evil, and are no longer thankful for good.