My true friends have always given me that supreme proof of devotion, a spontaneous aversion for the man I loved.
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- And what a delight it is to make friends with someone you have despised.
- But just as delicate fare does not stop you from craving for saveloys, so tried and exquisite friendship does not take away your taste for something new and dubious.
- Sincerity is not a spontaneous flower nor is modesty either.
- Shall we never have done with that cliche, so stupid that it could only be human, about the sympathy of animals for man when he is unhappy? Animals love happiness almost as much as we do. A fit of crying disturbs them, they’ll sometimes imitate sobbing, and for a moment they’ll reflect our sadness. But they flee unhappiness as they flee fever, and I believe that in the long run they are capable of boycotting it.
- It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts. After death they take on a firmer outline and then cease to change.
- Is suffering so very serious? I have come to doubt it. It may be quite childish, a sort of undignified pastime — I’m referring to the kind of suffering a man inflicts on a woman or a woman on a man. It’s extremely painful. I agree that it’s hardly bearable. But I very much fear that this sort of pain deserves no consideration at all. It’s no more worthy of respect than old age or illness.