“Death is in truth an illness from which we recover”

The only true voyage of discovery, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes.

There are optical illusions in time as well as space.

We love only what we do not wholly possess.

People don’t know when they are happy. They’re never so unhappy as they think they are.

One becomes moral as soon as one is unhappy.

The fixity of a habit is generally in direct proportion to its absurdity.

Love is space and time measured by the heart.

The artist who gives up an hour of work for an hour of conversation with a friend knows that he is sacrificing a reality for something that does not exist.

A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves.

It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.

The courage of one’s opinions is always a form of calculating cowardice in the eyes of the other side.

My destination is no longer a place, rather a new way of seeing.

Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them.

Love ever unsatisfied, lives always in the moment that is about to come.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Like many intellectuals, he was incapable of saying a simple thing in a simple way.

Even if you live forty or fifty years in this world, and then die, you cannot take all your goods with you.

One day I will fall gracefully to pieces. Until then, I’ll just fall.

Death means my present physical costume ends.

To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead.

To Harry Secombe: I hope you die first as I don’t want you singing at my funeral.

I want to live where the clouds touch the sky. I’m told the love their never dies.

Love is like a dying ember, only memories remain.

This is a good day to die. Follow me!