It is sad not to love, but it is much sadder not to be able to love.
A man does not die of love or his liver or even of old age; he dies of being a man.
To love with the spirit is to pity, and he who pities most loves most.
Yes, yes, I see it all! — an enormous social activity, a mighty civilization, a profuseness of science, of art, of industry, of morality, and afterwords, when we have filled the world with industrial marvels, with great factories, with roads, museums and libraries, we shall fall exhausted at the foot of it all, and it will subsist — for whom? Was man made for science or was science made for man?