And those who only know the non-platonic love have no need to talk of tragedy. In such love there can be no sort of tragedy.

I am certain, too, that such a soul, such a heart and principles, as are hers are not to be found elsewhere in the world of the present day. (I do not know whence he had derived the habit of saying that few good things were discoverable in the world of the present day, but at all events he loved to repeat the expression, and it somehow suited him.)

Each time of life has its own kind of love.

All that day she had had the feeling that she was playing in the theatre with actors better than herself and that her poor playing spoiled the whole thing.

Without knowledge of what I am and why I am here, it is impossible to live, and since I cannot know that, I cannot live either. In an infinity of time, in an infinity of matter, and an infinity of space a bubble-organism emerges while will exist for a little time and then burst, and that bubble am I.

As often happens between people who have chosen different ways, each of them, while rationally justifying the other's activity, despised it in his heart. To each of them it seemed that the life he led was the only real life, and the one his friend led was a mere illusion.

To settle the matter in his own mind was one thing but to carry it out was another.