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

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

Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night.

So your desire is to do nothing? Well, you shall not have a week, a day, an hour, free from oppression. You shall not be able to lift anything without agony. Every passing minute will make your muscles crack. What is feather to others will be a rock to you. The simplest things will become difficult. Life will become monstrous about you. To come, to go, to breathe, will be so many terrible tasks for you. Your lungs will feel like a hundred-pound weight.

The tomb is not a blind alley: it is a thoroughfare. It closes on the twilight. It opens on the dawn.

Wisdom and eloquence are not always united.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.