New York seems conducted by jazz, animated by it. It is essentially a city of rhythm.

I am quite wiling to confide entirely in human being, except that at some moment or another human beings get preoccupied, moody, busy, inattentive, and there come an end to the interest, and this never happens in a journal!

Truth is something which can't be told in a few words. Those who simplify the universe only reduce the expansion of its meaning.

Why do I doubt her? Perhaps she is just very sensitive, and hypersensitive people are false when others doubt them; they waver. And one thinks them insincere. Yet I want to believe her. At the same time it does not seem so very important that she should love me. It is not her role. I am so filled with my love of her. And at the same time I feel that I am dying. Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.

Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

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

The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer. The dictionary, a new word, a voyage, an encounter, a talk on the street, a book, a phrase learned.