Each friend represents a world in us.

Out of the red and silver and the long cry of alarm to the poet who survives in all human beings, as the child survives in him; to this poet she threw an unexpected ladder in the middle of the city and ordained, 'Climb!

I am like a snake who has already bitten. I retreat from a direct battle while knowing the slow effect of the poison.

When I first met him, he did not care if a friend did not fit into his world, because at that time his world had not been born yet.

One may gain one truth at the expense of another.

I have no brakes on...analysis is for those who are paralyzed by life.

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.