The self is merely the lens through which we see others and the world.

Sometimes we reveal ourselves when we are least like ourselves.

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.

Most artists have retired too absolutely; they grow rusty, inflexible to the flow of currents.

If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.

I either eat too much or starve myself. Sleep for 14 hours or have insomniac nights. Fall in love very hard or hate passionately. I don't know what grey is. I never did.

You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead.