the comfort of reclusion, the poetry of hibernation

Everything great in the world comes from neurotics. They alone have founded our religions and composed our masterpieces.

People can have many different kinds of pleasure. The real one is that for which they will forsake the others.

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad.

The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.