Each day is a little bit of history.
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Each day is a little bit of history.
There are few things so pleasant as a picnic eaten in perfect comfort.
Life is just a journey.
To beautify life is to give it an object.
Life is a deep and contemplative story stuck on repeat. Love, loss, self-destruction, self-discovery.
Life is an end in itself, and the only question as to whether it is worth living is whether you have had enough of it.
There is only one thing about which I am certain, and this is that there is very little about which one can be certain.
Life is extraordinarily suave and sweet with certain natural, witty, affectionate people who have unusual distinction and are capable of every vice, but who make a display of none in public and about whom no one can affirm they have a single one. There is something supple and secret about them. Besides, their perversity gives spice to their most innocent occupations, such as taking a walk in the garden at night.
The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful.
The truth is I've never fooled anyone. I've let people fool themselves. They didn't bother to find out who and what I was.