There was this shadow, this double, this writer who had followed me into the cloister. He rides my shoulders I cannot lose him.

On the last day of January 1915, in the second year of the Great War, down in the shadow of some French mountains on the borders of Spain, I came into this world.

Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.

Life is itself but the shadow of death, and souls departed but the shadows of the living. All things fall under this name. The sun itself is but the dark simulacrum, and light but the shadow of God.

The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little.

The least of the work of learning is done in the classroom.