It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.
A library implies an act of faith which generations, still in darkness hid, sign in their night in witness of the dawn.
Conscience is God present in man.
Often when we think we are knotting one thread, we are tying quite another.
The saints were his friends, and blessed him; the monsters were his friends, and guarded him.
There is suffering in the light; in excess it burns. Flame is hostile to the wing. To burn and yet to fly, this is the miracle of genius.