The man is placed where the Earth ends, the woman, where the heaven starts.

A library implies an act of faith which generations, still in darkness hid, sign in their night in witness of the dawn.

While contemplating the bride, and eyeing the cake of soap, he muttered between his teeth: 'Tuesday. It was not Tuesday. Was it Tuesday? Perhaps it was Tuesday. Yes, it was Tuesday.' No one has ever discovered to what this monologue referred. Yes, perchance, this monologue had some connection with the last occasion on which he had dined, three days before, for it was now Friday.

The thirst for the Infinite proves infinity.

Emergencies have always been necessary to progress. It was darkness which produced the lamp. It was fog that produced the compass. It was hunger that drove us to exploration. And it took a depression to teach us the real value of a job.

The miserable's name is Man; he is agonizing in all climes, and he is groaning in all languages.

It seems as though, at the approach of a certain dark hour, the light of heaven infills those who are leaving the light of earth.