Without heroes, we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go.
We didn't starve but nobody ate chicken unless we were sick or the chicken was.
Completed, most lives were alike in stages of living-joys, celebrations, crises, illusions, losses, sorrows.
The purpose of freedom is to create it for others.
The past exudes legend: one can't make pure clay of time's mud. There is no life that can be recaptured wholly; as it was.Which is to say that all biography is ultimately fiction.
A man is an island in the only sense that matters, not an easy way to be. We live in mystery, a cosmos of separate lonely bodies, men, insects, stars. It is all loneliness and men know it best.