Myths are made for the imagination to breath life into them.

To abandon oneself to principles is really to die - and to die for an impossible love which is the contrary of love.

Big tears of frustration and exhaustion were streaming down his cheeks. But because of all the wrinkles, they weren't dripping off. They spread out and ran together again, leaving a watery film over his ruined face.

And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of plague was ended.

Don't let them tell us stories.

The only real progress lies in learning to be wrong all alone.

I have never been able to renounce the light, the pleasure of being, and the freedom in which I grew up.