“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.”

That is a dream also; only he has remained asleep, while you have awakened; and who knows which of you is the most fortunate?

God is merciful to all, as he has been to you; he is first a father, then a judge.

So rapid is the flight of our dreams upon the wings of imagination.

Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which you can study character,” said the count; “on the steps of the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn through life, and the real visage is disclosed.

We are never quits with those who oblige us,” was Dantes’ reply; “for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude.

I am a count, not a saint.

Know you not that you are my sun by day, and my star by night? By my faith! I was in deepest darkness till you appeared and illuminated all.

We are always in a hurry to be happy; for when we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune.

On what slender threads do life and fortune hang.

I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I love. He who dies gains; he who sees others die loses.

Joy to hearts which have suffered long is like the dew on the ground after a long drought; both the heart and the ground absorb that beneficent moisture falling on them, and nothing is outwardly apparant.

The tree forsakes not the flower: the flower falls from the tree.

There is no friendship that cares about an overheard secret.

As a general rule…people ask for advice only in order not to follow it; or if they do follow it, in order to have someone to blame for giving it.

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.

A weakened mind always sees everything through a black veil. The soul makes its own horizons; your soul is dark, which is why you see such a cloudy sky.

We were language’s magpies by nature, stealing whatever sounded bright and shiny.

The only thing that it is advisable to know in any language is the numerals; and even there, you can do a lot with the fingers.

Language is the dress of thought; every time you talk your mind is on parade.

There’s no substitute for the love of language, for the beauty of an English sentence. There’s no substitute for struggling, if a struggle is needed, to make an English sentence as beautiful as it should be.

Often times the language is different; by which I mean, I love her, and it’s the only stammer I’ve ever known.

I guess we all understand the love language fine; but maybe truth is we’re just too fluent in goodbyes.

When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.

No fear or shame in the dignity of your experience, language, and knowledge.