Quotations are feeble; you always regret making them.

The joy of a party is the newness of people to each other, renewed strikingness of humanity. They love each other, to distraction. Really to distraction. Before they fall into conversation and separate. ... The strangeness, and the hopes aroused by strangeness, are illusions. Mirages arising wherever people gather expectantly together.

Life is creation - self and circumstances, the raw material.

In the midst of the happiness they brought there was always a lurking shadow. The shadow of incompatibility; of the impossibility of being at once bound and free. The garden breeds a longing for the wild; the wild a homesickness for the garden.

The better you hear a thing put, the more certain you are there's another view.

Life ought to be lived on a basis of silence, where truth blossoms.

Night is torment. That is why people go to sleep. To avoid clear sight and torment.