Some things in literature are inexplicable.

On the other hand I won’t conceal the fact from anyone that once upon a time a little something happened to me. I saw a little something. But never except just that once.

But I was also very pleased when I heard the Prince of Montenegro got married the other day. I know perfectly well that I am nothing to anyone. But the middle finger is no longer than the pinkie if one measures both against infinity...

And when the spring breezes blow up the valley; when the spring sun shines on last year’s withered grass on the river banks; and on the lake; and on the lake’s two white swans; and coaxes the new grass out of the spongy soil in the marshes – who could believe on such a day that this peaceful, grassy valley brooded over the story of our past; and over its spectres?

It’s an old saying that one still has to know something, despite everything.

Don’t forget that few people are likely to tell more than a small part of the truth: no one tells much of the truth, let alone the whole truth. Spoken words are facts in themselves, whether true or false. When people talk they reveal themselves, whether they’re lying or telling the truth.

Of all the creatures that man kills for his amusement there is only one that he kills out of hatred – other men. Man hates nothing as much as himself. That is why war is called the leprosy of the human soul.

It’s a useful habit to never believe more than half of what people tell you, and not to concern yourself with the rest. Rather keep your mind free and your path your own.

No one is so busy that he hasn’t the time to dismantle a work of art.

Whoever doesn’t live in poetry cannot survive here on earth.