A decision, an action, are infallible omens of what we shall do another time, not for any vague, mystic, astrological reason but because they result from an automatic reaction that will repeat itself.
The face of the night will be an old wound that reopens each evening, impassive and living. The distant silence will ache like a soul, mute, in the dark. We'll speak to the night as it's whispering softly.
The real affliction of old age is remorse.
You don't remember days, you remember moments.
Love is desire for knowledge.
Artists are the monks of the bourgeois state.
Life without smoking is like the smoke without the roast.
Suicides are timid murderers. Masochism instead of Sadism.
Not believing in anything is also a religion .
There is nothing fine about being a child: it is fine, when we are old, to look back to when we were children.
But here's the worst part: the trick to life lies in hiding from those we hold most dear how much they mean to is; if not, we'd lose them.
Will power is only the tensile strength of one's own disposition. One cannot increase it by a single ounce.
If it were possible to have a life absolutely free from every feeling of sin, what a terrifying vacuum it would be.
To avenge a wrong done to you, is to rob yourself of the comfort of crying out against the injustice of it.
Why so much innuendo, draped like ivy to hide a cesspool, when everyone knew the cesspool was there?
Whatever people may say, the fastidious formal manner of the upper classes is preferable to the slovenly easygoing behaviour of the common middle class. In moments of crisis, the former know how to act, the latter become uncouth brutes.
You've got to understand life, understand it when you're young.
There is something indecent in words .
In general, the man who is readily disposed to sacrifice himself is one who does not know how else to give meaning to his life. The profession of enthusiasm is the most sickening of all insincerities.
I thought of how many places there are in the world that belong in this way to someone, who has it in his blood beyond anyone else's understanding.
I've discovered nothing. but do you remember how much we talked when we were boys? We talked just for the fun of it. We knew very well it was only talk, but still we enjoyed it.
Literature is a defense against the attacks of life. It says to life: You can't deceive me. I know your habits, foresee and enjoy watching all your reactions, and steal your secret by involving you in cunning obstructions that halt your normal flow.
There is an art in taking the whiplash of suffering full in the face, an art you must learn. Let each single attack exhaust itself; pain always makes single attacks, so that its bite may be more intense, more concentrated. And you, while its fangs are implanted and injecting their venom at one spot, do not forget to offer it another place where it can bite you, and so relieve the pain of the first.
Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends
The cadence of suffering has begun. Every evening at dusk, my heart constricts until night has come.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: