163
" In fancy I took the simple decision of going on, this time on the mere trail to which our roads had now given way. I played with the idea...To be alone, without possessions, without renown, with none of the advantages of our own culture, to expose oneself among new men and among fresh hazards...Needless to say it was only a dream, and the briefest dream of all. This liberty that I was inventing ceased to exist upon closer view; I should quickly have rebuilt for myself everything that I renounced. Furthermore, wherever I went I should only have been a Roman away from Rome. A kind of umbilical cord attached me to the city. Perhaps at that time, in my rank of tribune, I felt still more closely bound to the empire than later as emperor, for the same reason that the thumb joint is less free than the brain. Nevertheless I did have that outlandish dream, at which our ancestors, soberly confined within their Latian fields, would have shuddered; to have harbored the thought, even for a moment, makes me forever different from them. "
― Marguerite Yourcenar , Memoirs of Hadrian
164
" Filled with a reverent notion (for which he would have been put to death on any of the public squares of Christendom or the lands of Mohammed), he reflected that the most adequate symbols of a conjectural Supreme Good are those very ones which are held, absurdly, to be the most idolatrous: the fiery globe above is the only God visible for us creatures, who would perish without it. Likewise, the most real of angels was this seagull, which possessed what Seraphim and Thrones did not have, the clear evidence of existing.
In this world unburdened by concepts, even ferocity was pure: the fish wriggling beneath the wave would soon be only a choice morsel, bleeding under the beak of the bird fishing here, but the bird was giving no false pretext for its hunger. Both fox and hare (trickery and fear) inhabited the dune where he slept, but the killer did not evoke laws promulgated long ago by some wise fox, or handed down by a fox-god. The victim did not suppose itself punished for its crimes or, when dying, protest to the end that it had remained loyal to its prince. "
― Marguerite Yourcenar , L'Œuvre au noir
168
" Et j'avoue que la raison reste confondue en présence du prodige même de l'amour, de l'étrange obsession qui fait que cette même chair dont nous nous soucions si peu quand elle compose notre propre corps, nous inquiétant seulement de la laver, de la nourrir, et, s'il se peut, de l'empêcher de souffrir, puisse nous inspirer une telle passion de caresses simplement parce qu'elle est animée par une individualité différente de la nôtre, et parce qu'elle présente certains linéaments de beauté, sur lesquels, d'ailleurs, les meilleurs juges ne s'accordent pas. "
― Marguerite Yourcenar , Memoirs of Hadrian