Our first intuitions are the true ones.
Only superficial minds approach an idea with delicacy.
What can be said, lacks reality. Only what fails to make its way into words exists and counts.
Only one thing matters: learning to be the loser.
Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.
I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.