Don Quixote's misfortune is not his imagination, but Sancho Panza.
I wanted to escape the unrest, to shut out the voices around me and within me, so I write.
I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.
I no longer know If I wish to drown myself in love, vodka or the sea.
Work as joy, inaccessible to the psychologists.
You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.