Life Is Very Nice, But It Has

Life Consists Of Nothing More Than The Happiness We Can Get Out Of It.

When You Are Forty, Half Of You Belongs To The Past... And When You Are Seventy, Nearly All Of You.

God! Is There Anything Uglier Than A Frightened Man!

The True Masters Of The Art Of Living Are Already Happy.

Listen, My Friend, There Are Two Races Of Beings. The Masses Teeming And Happy - Common Clay, If You Like - Eating, Breeding, Working, Counting Their Pennies; People Who Just Live; Ordinary People; People You Can't Imagine Dead. And Then There Are The Others - The Noble Ones, The Heroes. The Ones You Can Quite Well Imagine Lying Shot, Pale And Tragic; One Minute Triumphant With A Guard Of Honor, And The Next Being Marched Away Between Two Gendarmes