There is only one day left$$$ always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.

We use words to understand each other and even$$$ sometimes$$$ to find each other.

Life is judged with all the blindness of life itself.

Fanaticism consists of redoubling your efforts when you have forgotten your aim.

To be interested in the changing seasons is . . . a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

History is nothing but assisted and recorded memory.

Grand. There's a word I really hate. It's a phony. I could puke every time I hear it.

Joy multiplies when it is shared among friends$$$ but grief diminishes with every division. That is life.

How could we discuss this and that without knowing the whole world is reflected in a single pearl?

In the end$$$ rage$$$ no matter how profoundly justified$$$ destroys the enraged.