You are so vulnerably haunting. Your eeriness is terrifyingly irresistible.

Knowledge we have. Anyone who strives for it with particular intensity is suspect of striving against it.

I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn't wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for?

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

Only the moment counts. It determines life.

It is comforting to reflect that the disproportion of things in the world seems to be only arithmetical.

Productivity is being able to do things that you were never able to do before.