Men travel faster now, but I do not know if they go to better things.

Merely having seen the season change in a country gave one the sense of having been there for a long time.

In little towns, lives roll along so close to one another; loves and hates beat about, their wings almost touching.

Too much information is rather deadening.

She had certain thoughts which were like companions, ideas which were like older and wiser friends.

If youth did not matter so much to itself, it would never have the heart to go on.

What if - what if Life itself were the sweetheart?