It is grievous for a man to leave behind him a shadow in his own shape.
The aim of art is almost divine: to bring to life again if it is writing history, to create if it is writing poetry.
These are true felicities. No joy beyond these joys. Love is the only ecstasy, everything else weeps
Sorrow is a fruit. God does not make it grow on limbs too weak to bear it. Victor
We need those who pray constantly to compensate for those who do not pray at all.