Baltasar and Blimunda

by José Saramago

We never ask ourselves whether there might not be some wisdom in madness, even while recognising that we are all a little mad.

a man must earn his daily bread by some means somewhere, and if that bread fails to nourish his soul, at least his body will be nourished while his soul suffers.

for we are all beloved once we are dead.

for we know that happiness is short-lived, that we fail to cherish it when it is within our grasp and value it only when it has vanished forever,