I could not sit down to write a serious romance under any other motive than to save my life.
How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?
Home is where you dance with others, and dancing is life.
God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.[Dieu nous a donné le vivre; c’est à nous de nous donner le bien vivre.]
Get busy living or get busy dying.
Every mundanity of life grows infinitely more precious in the face of impending death.
Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.
Don’t ever give up on life. Life can be so beautiful, especially after you’ve spent a lot of time with it.
Do you think I count the days? We have only one now, that begins and begins again; it is given to us with the dawn and taken away with the night.[Crois-tu que je compte les jours? Il n’y en a plus qu’un seul, toujours recommencé : on nous le donne à l’aube et on nous le retire à la nuit.]
Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.
Death is the end of life; ah, why should life all labour be?
But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There was always something getting in the way of my getting to myself.
