Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
Our entire life, with our fine moral code and our precious freedom, consists ultimately in accepting ourselves as we are.
The object of art is to give life shape.
Life isn't what you think it is. It's like water, and the young let it trickle away between their fingers without even noticing. Cup your hands, keep it safe. Life eventually becomes something else, something hard, something simple, something you can hold in your hand and nibble on contentedly as you sit in the sun.
What you get free costs too much.
The only immorality is not to do what one has to do when one has to do it.
Life consists of nothing more than the happiness we can get out of it.
When you are forty, half of you belongs to the past... And when you are seventy, nearly all of you.
Nobody has a more sacred obligation to obey the law than those who make the law.
Beauty is one of the rare things that do not lead to doubt of God.
I don't want people to love me. It makes for obligations.
There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.
God is on everyone's side... and in the last analysis, he is on the side with plenty of money and large armies.
Poor little men, poor little cocks! As soon as they're old enough, they swell their plumage to be conquerors. If they only knew that it's enough to be just a little bit wounded and sad in order to obtain everything without fighting for it.
Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path
Death has to be waiting at the end of the ride before you truly see the earth, and feel your heart, and love the world.
Men create real miracles when they use their God-given courage and intelligence.
Life is a child playing round your feet, a tool you hold firmly in your grip, a bench you sit down upon in the evening, in your garden.
To say yes, you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no, even if saying no means death.
Things are beautiful if you love them.
With God, what is terrible is that one never knows whether it's not just a trick of the devil.
One cannot weep for the entire world, it is beyond human strength. One must choose.
Talent is like a faucet, while it is open, one must write.
The true masters of the art of living are already happy.
All prisons are brimming over with innocence. It is those who cram their fellows into them, in the name of empty ideas, who are the only guilty ones.
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