That's how we stay young these days: murder and suicide.
Language should almost break up or explode in its fruitless effort to contain so many meanings.
Explanation separates us from astonishment, which is the only gateway to the incomprehensible.
The more I try to explain myself, the less I understand myself.
Childhood is over the moment things are no longer astonishing.
The brightest light, the light of Italy, the purest sky of Scandinavia in the month of June is only a half-light when one compares it to the light of childhood. Even the nights were blue.