Yet where is your inner value when you no longer know what it is to breathe freely; when you no longer have freedom over your own selves

We talk so abstractly about poetry because all of us are usually bad poets.

People who have given us their complete confidence believe that they have a right to ours. The inference is false, a gift confers no rights.

God is a too palpably clumsy answer; an answer which shows a lack of delicacy towards us thinkers-fundamentally, even a crude prohibition to us: you shall not think!

Instinct. When the house burns one forgets even lunch. Yes, but one eats it later in the ashes.

Man, a hybrid of plant and ghost.

What separates two people most profoundly is a different sense and degree of cleanliness.