Love each other dearly always. There is scarcely anything else in the world but that: to love one another.

There have been in this century only one great man and one great thing: Napoleon and liberty. For want of the great man, let us have the great thing.

The author creates a book and the people accept or not accept it. The creator of a book is an author and the creator of it`s fate are people.

To live a life which is a perpetual falsehood is to suffer unknown tortures.

Do you hear the people sing? Singing a song of angry men

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.

Taste is the common sense of genius.