There is not enough love and goodness in the world to permit giving any of it away to imaginary beings.

There is not enough love and goodness in the world for us to be permitted to give any of it away to imaginary things.

...no pain has been or shall be able to tempt me into giving false testimony about life as I recognize it.

This world, the eternally imperfect, the eternal and imperfect image of a contradiction – an intoxicating joy to its imperfect creator – that is what I once thought the world.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

Love is not consolation. It is light.