Tolerance becomes a crime when applied to evil.
Stupid — well, there are so many kinds of stupidity, and cleverness is one of the worst.
War is only a cowardly escape from the problems of peace.
Laughter is a sunbeam of the soul.
A harmful truth is better than a useful lie.
Order and simplification are the first steps toward the mastery of a subject.
Art is the funnel, as it were, through which spirit is poured into life.
In books we never find anything but ourselves. Strangely enough, that always gives us great pleasure, and we say the author is a genius.
If the years of youth are experienced slowly, while the later years of life hurtle past at an ever-increasing speed, it must be habit that causes it. We know full well that the insertion of new habits or the changing of old ones is the only way to preserve life, to renew our sense of time, to rejuvenate, intensify, and retard our experience of time - and thereby renew our sense of life itself. That is the reason for every change of scenery and air.
People's behavior makes sense if you think about it in terms of their goals, needs, and motives.
A great truth is a truth whose opposite is also a truth.
We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.
It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death.
If you are possessed by an idea, you find it expressed everywhere, you even smell it.
Every reasonable human being should be a moderate Socialist.
Only love, and not reason, yields kind thoughts.
A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.
Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.
He who loves the more is the inferior and must suffer.
Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But also, it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd.
Distance in a straight line has no mystery. The mystery is in the sphere.
There is only one real misfortune: to forfeit one's own good opinion of oneself. Lose your complacency, once betray your own self-contempt and the world will unhesitatingly endorse it.
What a wonderful phenomenon it is, carefully considered, when the human eye, that jewel of organic structures, concentrates its moist brilliance on another human creature!
Nothing is more curious and awkward than the relationship of two people who only know each other with their eyes — who meet and observe each other daily, even hourly and who keep up the impression of disinterest either because of morals or because of a mental abnormality. Between them there is listlessness and pent-up curiosity, the hysteria of an unsatisfied, unnaturally suppressed need for communion and also a kind of tense respect. Because man loves and honors man as long as he is not able to judge him, and desire is a product of lacking knowledge.
For to be poised against fatality, to meet adverse conditions gracefully, is more than simple endurance; it is an act of aggression, a positive triumph.
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