There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved.

Believe in no other God than the one who insists on justice and equality among men.

Faith is an excitement and an enthusiasm: it is a condition of intellectual magnificence to which we must cling as to a treasure, and not squander on our way through life in the small coin of empty words, or in exact and priggish argument.

Happiness lies in the consciousness we have of it.

I ask the support of no one, neither to kill someone for me, gather a bouquet, correct a proof, nor to go with me to the theater. I go there on my own, as a man, by choice; and when I want flowers, I go on foot, by myself, to the Alps.

Let us accept truth, even when it surprises us and alters our views.

Life in common among people who love each other is the ideal of happiness.

Man. . . is only too glad to have woman hold strictly to the Christian principle of suffering in silence.

One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.

One wastes so much time, one is so prodigal of life, at twenty! Our days of winter count for double. That is the compensation of the old.

It is a mistake to regard age as a downhill grade toward dissolution. The reverse is true. As one grows older one climbs with surprising strides.

One is happy as a result of one's own efforts, once one knows the necessary ingredients of happiness - simple tastes, a certain degree of courage, self-denial to a point, love of work, and, above all, a clear conscience.

I am not full of virtues and noble qualities. I love. That is all. But I love strongly, exclusively, and steadfastly.

Life resembles a novel more often than novels resemble life.

Can one thus resume one's self? Can one know one's self? Is one ever somebody? I don't know anything about it any more. It now seems to me that one changes from day to day and that every few years one becomes a new being.