The truly erotic sensibility, in evoking the image of woman, never omits to clothe it. The robing and disrobing: that is the true traffic of love.

There is no one so bound to his own face that he does not cherish the hope of presenting another to the world.

All uncertainty is fruitfull ... so long as it is accompanied by the wish to understand

No one can shed light on vices he does not have or afflictions he has ever experienced.

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path. . .

Wayfarer, the only way is your footsteps, there is no other. Wayfarer, there is no way, you make the way as you go. As you go, you make the way and stopping to look behind, you see the path that your feet will never travel again. Wayfarer, there is no way- Only foam trails to the sea.

Only a fool thinks price and value are the same.