We are imprisoned in the realm of life, like a sailor on his tiny boat, on an infinite ocean.

In our dreams we can have our eggs cooked exactly how we want them, but we can't eat them.

Create around one at least a small circle where matters are arranged as one wants them to be.

Creative minds have always been known to survive any kind of bad training.

A first visit to a madhouse is always a shock.

What I have always wanted for myself is much more primitive. It is probably nothing more than the affection of the people with whom I am in contact, and their good opinion of me.

We live trapped, between the churned-up and examined past and a future that waits for our work.