Alas! What are all these lives driven willy-nilly? Where are they going? Why are they like this? He who knows the answer to that, sees the darkness as a whole. He is alone. His name is God.
Can the heart become misshapen and contract incurable deformities and infirmities under the oppression of a disproportionate unhappiness, as the vertebral column beneath too low a vault?
The greatest favorites of destiny make mistakes. Our joys are composed of shadow. The supreme smile is God's alone.
It seemed as though he had for a soul the book of the natural law.
There is still a certain grace in a dead festival. It has been happy.
What love commences can be finished by God alone.