我们
A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.
The time at our disposal each day is elastic; the passions we feel dilate it, those we inspire contract it; and habit fills up what remains.
The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect.
We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.
The desire to be loved is perhaps the most deeply rooted of all our vanity.
The true paradises are the paradises that we have lost.
The time which we have at our disposal every day is elastic; the passions that we feel expand it, those that we inspire contract it; and habit fills up what remains.
We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us.
The only real paradise is a paradise we have lost.
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.
Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.
To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.
Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.
The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.