Animals are nothing but the portrayal of our virtues and vices made manifest to our eyes, the visible reflections of our souls.

Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

If I were Jesus Christ, I would save Judas.

Children at once accept joy and happiness with quick familiarity, being themselves naturally all happiness and joy.

I like the laughter that opens the lips and the heart, shows at the same time the pearls and the soul.

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

Despots play their part in the works of thinkers. Fettered words are terrible words. The writer doubles and trebles the power of his writing when a ruler imposes silence on the people. Something emerges from that enforced silence, a mysterious fullness which filters through and becomes steely in the thought.