One may have staunch friends in one's own family, but one seldom has admirers.

The world is little, people are little, human life is little. There is only one big thing — desire.

In a few hours one could cover that incalculable distance; from the winter country and homely neighbours, to the city where the air trembled like a tuning-fork with unimaginable possibilities.

Wherever humanity has made that hardest of all starts and lifted itself out of mere brutality is a sacred spot.

Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they are in love with somebody.

There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.

The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or a woman.