It Has Been Rightly Said That Nothing

When The Soul Drifts Uncertainly Between Life And The Dream, Between The Mind's Disorder And The Return To Cool Reflection, It Is In Religious Thought That We Should Seek Consolation.

Every Flower Is A Soul Blossoming In Nature.

I Have Never Felt Any Rest In Sleep. For A Few Seconds I Am Numbed, Then A New Life Begins, Freed From The Conditions Of Time And Space, And Doubtless Similar To That State Which Awaits Us After Death. Who Knows If There Is Not Some Link Between Those Two Existences And If It Is Not Possible For The Soul To Unite Them Now?

The First Man Who Compared Woman To A Rose Was A Poet; The Second, An Imbecile.

I Have Always Differentiated Between Two Types Of Friends; Those Who Want Proofs Of Friendship, And Those Who Do Not. One Kind Loves Me For Myself And The Others For Themselves.