Blow the candle out, I don't need to see what my thoughts look like.

I believe that all is illusion and vanity outside the treasure of truths slowly accumulated, and which will never again be lost. I believe that the sum of these truths, always increasing, will at last confer on man incalculable power and peace, if not happiness. Yes, I believe in the final triumph of life.

A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.

Oh, the fools, like a lot of good little schoolboys, scared to death of anything they've been taught is wrong!

Did not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?

They dared not peer down into their own natures, down into the feverish confusion that filled their minds with a kind of dense, acrid mist.