Death, like generation, is a secret of Nature. Book IV
What a man has, so much he is sure of. Don Quixote
Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy. War and Peace
He began to seach among the infinite series of impressions which time had laid down, leaf upon leaf, fold upon fold softly, incessantly upon his brain; among scents, sounds; voices, harsh, hollow, sweet; and lights passing, and brooms tapping; and the wash and hush of the sea. To the Lighthouse
Quotes