There are words which close a conversation as with an iron door.

I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper than of a sword or pistol.

Be happy, noble heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like your good deeds.

He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness.

When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.

Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other means of deliverance.

So much the worse for those who fear wine, for it is because they have some bad thoughts which they are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts.

For the happy man prayer is only a jumble of words, until the day when sorrow comes to explain to him the sublime language by means of which he speaks to God.

To save a man and thereby to spare a father's agony and a mother's feelings is not to do a noble deed, it is but an act of humanity.

...remember that what has once been done may be done again.

Woman is sacred the woman one loves is holy.

Pain, sometimes, is like Love. It grows, until it becomes your Life.

. . .how he had loved Christine more than he had understood, that sometimes one forgot what it meant, really, to love, the way the tide of a marriage advances and retreats, . .

There are occasions when I have moved boulders, but I'm reluctant to, especially ones that have been rooted in a place for many years.

I used to take on trust a man's deeds after having listened to his words. Now having listened to a man's words I go on to observe his deeds.

Love is every type of relationship that you think of... I'm sure it means relationship, every type of relationship that you can think of.

Living more intensely, more lovingly, with more camaraderie, that is in itself resistance.

When all my friends insisted that they were feeling jaded, it struck me as an affected pose. To me, everything is always new.

How do our philosophers act? Do they not inscribe their signatures to the very essays they write on the propriety of despising glory.

It was as though she was an exile from a world that saw things her way

You may be whatever you resolve to be.