The want of logic annoys. Too much logic bores. Life eludes logic, and everything that logic alone constructs remains artificial and forced.
It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.
In hell there is no other punishment than to begin over and over again the tasks left unfinished in your lifetime.
The sole art that suits me is that which, rising from unrest, tends toward serenity.
Nothing prevents happiness like the memory of happiness.
What would there be in a story of happiness? Only what prepares it, only what destroys it can be told.