If one man were to live out his life fully and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream—I believe that the world would gain... a fresh impulse of joy...

In nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, cruelty has its place.

The joy which we inspire has this charming property, that, far from growing meagre, like all reflections, it returns to us more radiant than ever.

It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness.

What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms... or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness.

A short period of exquisite felicity followed, and but a short one.