Please — consider me a dream.

I do not read advertisements. I would spend all of my time wanting things.

It receives you when you come and dismisses you when you go.

One can disintegrate the world by means of very strong light. For weak eyes the world becomes solid, for still weaker eyes it seems to develop fists, for eyes weaker still it becomes shamefaced and smashes anyone who dares to gaze upon it.

The dream reveals the reality which conception lags behind. That is the horror of life-the terror of art.

You, who can't do anything, think you can bring off something like that? How can you even dare to think about it? If you were capable of it, you certainly wouldn't be in need of it.

I’m doing badly, I’m doing well; whichever you prefer.