I foresee the day when we shall read nothing but telegrams and prayers.

No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.

Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.

Truths begin by a conflict with the police - and end by calling them in.

We understand God by everything in ourselves that is fragmentary, incomplete, and inopportune.

Even when nothing happens, everything seems too much for me. What can be said, then, in the presence of an event, any event?

We are all deep in a hell each moment of which is a miracle.