Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite.

Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite.

Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terror, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.

We three belong to the Middle Ages. We have this need of heroism, and there is no place for such feelings in modern life. That is our tragedy. Once I wanted to be a saint. It seemed the only absolute act left to do, for what is most powerful in me is the craving for purity, greatness.

I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live.

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living.