Where does discipline end? Where does cruelty begin? Somewhere between these, thousands of children inhabit a voiceless hell. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
A man's passion for the mountain is, above all, his childhood which refuses to die. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
A good critic is the sorcerer who makes some hidden spring gush forth unexpectedly under our feet. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
“The really pure in heart know nothing of what goes on around them each day, each night; never realize what poisonous weeds spring up… — François Mauriac Copy Share Image
The Eucharist engages us unreservedly; it is a pact of love, an alliance signed in the deeper recesses of our being. All our potentialities… — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
A cemetery saddens us because it is the only place of the world in which we do not meet our dead again. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
Men resemble great deserted palaces: the owner occupies only a few rooms and has closed-off wings where he never ventures. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
Did you ever have a conversation with someone who misunderstood everything you had to say? It's exhausting, and the ironic part is that the… — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
“We are, all of us, molded and re-molded by those who have loved us, and though that love may pass, we remain nonetheless their… — François Mauriac Copy Share Image
I believe that only poetry counts ... A great novelist is first of all a great poet. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
If the flame inside you goes out, the souls that are next to you will die of cold. — Francois Mauriac Copy Share Image
