“I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all.”

Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen.

I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication.

If a man proves too clearly and convincingly to himself…that a tiger is an optical illusion–well, he will find out he is wrong.

Absence – that common cure of love.

Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were.

And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music… Speak to me!

If I could always read, I should never feel the want of company.

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

Adversity is the first path to truth.

The great object of life is Sensation – to feel that we exist – even though in pain – it is this “craving void” which drives us to gaming – to battle – to travel – to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

The heart will break, but broken live on.

What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.

The drying up a single tear has more, of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.

Here is all I ask of a book- give me everything. Everything, and don’t leave out a single word.

We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.

I took his suggestion to heart and went from a “know-it-all” to a “learn-it-all.”

I’ve always believed that dreams were both the love letters and the hate mail of the subconscious.

Physical beauty is passing – a transitory possession – but beauty of the mind, richness of the spirit, tenderness of the heart – I have all these things – aren’t taken away but grow! Increase with the years!

Nobody sees anybody truly, but all through the flaws of their own ego.

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness.

In fact, for all kinds of offenses – and, for no offenses – from murders to misdemeanors, men and women are put to death without judge or jury; so that, although the political excuse was no longer necessary, the wholesale murder of human beings went on just the same.