Death belongs to God alone; by what right do men touch that unknown thing?

I write with one hand, but I fight with both.

She worked in order to live, and presently fell in love, also in order to live, for the heart, too, has its hunger.

It is an unpleasant thing to go to bed without supper, it is a still less pleasant thing not to sup and not to know where one is to sleep.

Not seeing people allows you to think of them as perfect in all kinds of ways.

Those who pray always are necessary to those who never pray. In our view, the whole question is in the amount of thought that is mingled with prayer.

Sublime upon sublime scarcely presents a contrast, and we need a little rest from everything, even the beautiful.