I shall not die of a cold. I shall die of having lived.
Those who live by the sea can hardly form a single thought of which the sea would not be part.
The world has always gone through periods of madness so as to advance a bit on the road to reason.
What's important is promising something to the people, not actually keeping those promises. The people have always lived on hope alone.
Were one merely to seek information, one should inquire of the man who hates, but if one wishes to know what truly is, one better ask the one who loves.
No one's death comes to pass without making some impression, and those close to the deceased inherit part of the liberated soul and become richer in their humanness.
One who hates is a man holding a magnifying-glass, and when he hates someone, he knows precisely that person's surface, from the soles of his feet all the way up to each hair on the hated head.