All isolation is wrong so say the herd. And long didst thou belong to the herd.

What makes us heroic?--Confronting simultaneously our supreme suffering and our supreme hope.

No man ever wrote more eloquently and luminously [than Heraclitus].

One has to know the size of one's stomach.

The ability to suffer is a small matter - weak women and even slaves can acheive virtuosity in that.

How much truth can a spirit bear, how much truth can a spirit dare? ... that became for me more and more the real measure of value.

I need solitude, which is to say, recovery, return to my self, the breath of a free, light, playful air.