Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?

The world's continual breathing is what we hear and call silence.

The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that's a bit much.

Whether she won or lost, she would continue to wrestle with life. It would not be with her own life alone but with all of life. Something had finally been released within her. And there it was, the sea.

Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?

In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.

How was she to tie herself to a man without permitting him to imprison her? And was there some means of acquiring things without those things possessing her?