In every loving woman there is a priestess of the past - a pious guardian of some affection, of which the object has disappeared.

Our systems, perhaps, are nothing more than an unconscious apology for our faults, a gigantic scaffolding whose object is to hide from us our favorite sin.

We only understand that which already is within us.

Conquering any difficulty always gives one a secret joy, for it means pushing back a boundary-line and adding to one's liberty.

He who asks of life nothing but the improvement of his own nature... is less liable than anyone else to miss and waste life.

Tell me what you feel in your room when the full moon is shining in upon you and your lamp is dying out, and I will tell you how old you are, and I shall know if you are happy.