“But nothing is so strange when one is in love (and what was this except being in love?) as the complete indifference of other people.”

The mind must be allowed to settle undisturbed over the object in order to secrete the pearl.

I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.

When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don’t seem to matter very much, do they?

A light here required a shadow there.

Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth.

If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night.

Books are the mirrors of the soul.

I am rooted, but I flow.

And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.

And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.

Love, the poet said, is woman’s whole existence.

I always had the deepest affection for people who carried sublime tears in their silences.

Friendships, even the best of them, are frail things. One drifts apart.

I need silence, and to be alone and to go out, and to save one hour to consider what has happened to my world, what death has done to my world.

I like to have space to spread my mind out in.

Suddenly, the child becomes very sensitive to the rudeness and humiliations which he had previously suffered with patient indifference.

A contemptuous indifference turns into an enemy a woman who, well treated, might have been an angel.

The true evil is not the weakening of the body, but the indifference of the soul.

I regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion.

Perfect behavior is born of complete indifference.

There is a great difference between discoveries and inventions. With discoveries, one can always be skeptical, and many surprises can take place. In the case of inventions, surprises can really only occur for people who have not had anything to do with it.

The only kind of dignity which is genuine is that which is not diminished by the indifference of others.

The appeal of reading, she thought, lay in its indifference: there was something undeferring about literature.