“I’d rather write about laughing than crying, For laughter makes men human, and courageous.”

He who has not an adventure has not horse or mule, so says Solomon.–Who is too adventurous, said Echephron,–loses horse and mule.

A little rain beats down a big wind. Long drinking bouts break open the tunder.

Fate leads the willing, and th’ unwilling draws.

Don’t limp in front of the lame.

I build only living stones–men.

I am going to seek a grand perhaps.

Ignorance is the mother of all evils.

A child is not a vase to be filled, but a fire to be lit.

How can I govern others, who can’t even govern myself?

I drink eternally. For me it is an eternity of drinking, and a drinking up of eternity.

Giving words is an act of lovers.

Such is the nature and make-up of the French that they are only good at the start. Then they are worse than devils, but, given time, they’re less than women.

A certain jollity of mind, pickled in the scorn of fortune.

In their rules there was only one clause: Do what you will.

Can there be any greater dotage in the world than for one to guide and direct his courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment.

Strike the iron whilst it is hot.

If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.

I really like older British guys – I don’t think any of them would ever have a problem with crying in front of a woman or saying “I love you” or “You hurt me” or emotional stuff like that.

I have but one passion: to enlighten those who have been kept in the dark, in the name of humanity which has suffered so much and is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.

Silent hearts carrying pain quietly are likely to make thunders cry loud.

My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.

The last person I adored made me cry and then tenderly wiped the tears off my face. It was the only lesson that taught me; you can love someone and still do horrible, cruel things to them.

I don’t react to a tragic happening any more. I took so many bad things as a kid and some people think I don’t care about anything. It’s just too hard for me to get emotional. I can’t cry no more.

There are these emotions which are eager to scream aloud, but they settle inside us without a cry.