Love is never a fulfillment. Life is never a thing of continuous bliss. There is no paradise. Fight and laugh and feel bitter and feel bliss: and fight again. Fight, fight. That is life.

Gods die with men who have conceived them. But the god-stuff roars eternally, like the sea, with too vast a sound to be heard.

Oh the innocent girl in her maiden teens knows perfectly well what everything means.

An illusion which is a real experience is worth having.

The Moon! Artemis! the great goddess of the splendid past of men! Are you going to tell me she is a dead lump?

I think I am much too valuable a creature to offer myself to a German bullet gratis and for fun.

And this is the final meaning of work: the extension of human consciousness. The lesser meaning of work is the achieving of self-preservation.