When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.
Whatever causes night in our souls may leave stars.
When we reach out to pluck a flower the stem trembles, seeming both to shrink and to offer itself. The human body has something of this tremor at the moment when the mysterious hand of death reaches out to pluck a soul.
When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is an unspeakable dawn in happy old age.
When one does wrong, one must do it thoroughly.
When two mouths, made sacred by love, draw near to each other to create, it is impossible, that above that ineffable kiss there should not be a thrill in the immense mystery of the stars.
When one has but a single idea he finds in it everything.
When a man understands the art of seeing, he can trace the spirit of an age and the features of a king even in the knocker on a door.
When those who found this skeleton attempted to disengage it from that which it held in its grasp, it crumbled to dust.