As for us, we respect the past here and there, and we spare it, above all, provided that it consents to be dead. If it insists on being alive, we attack it, and we try to kill it.
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
Life is the flower for which love is the honey.
To love another person is to see the face of God.
Great perils have this beauty, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers.
When the heart is dry the eye is dry.
This is one of those rare moments when, while doing that which it is one's duty to do, one feels something which disconcerts one, and which would dissuade one from proceeding further; one persists, it...
There is always a patch of blue sky to lovers, although the rest of the world may see nothing but their umbrellas.
In love there are no friends everywhere where there is a pretty woman hostility is open.
If they had had a different neighbour, one less sel-absorbed and more concerned for others, a man of normal, charitable instincts, their desperate state would not have gone unnoticed, their distress-s...
He was there alone with himself, collected, tranquil, adoring, comparing the serenity of his heart with the serenity of the skies, moved in the darkness by the visible splendors of the constellations,...
God will reward you,' he said. 'You must be an angel since you care for flowers.
To commit the least possible sin is the law for man. To live without sin is the dream of an angel. Everything terrestrial is subject to sin. Sin is a gravitation.
Science says the first word on everything, and the last word on nothing.
What was more needed by this old man who divided the leisure hours of his life, where he had so little leisure, between gardening in the daytime, and contemplation at night? Was not this narrow enclos...
This first glance of a soul which does not yet know itself is like dawn in the heavens; it is the awakening of something radiant and unknown.
I wanted to see you again, touch you, know who you were, see if I would find you identical with the ideal image of you which had remained with me and perhaps shatter my dream with the aid of reality.
. .where there is no more hope, song remains.
As the purse is emptied the heart is filled.
All the forces in the world are not so powerful as an idea whose time has come.