Imagination is a tree. It has the integrative virtues of a tree. It is root and boughs. It lives between earth and sky. It lives in the earth and the wind. The imagined tree imperceptibly becomes a cosmological tree, the tree which epitomises a universe, which makes a universe.

Love is never finished expressing itself, and it expresses itself better the more poetically it is dreamed.

The human mind has claimed for water one of its highest values-the value of purity.

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears its truth.

One must live to build one's house, and not build one's house to live in.

It will always be a fact that the woman is the person one idealizes, also the person who wishes his idealization.

Why should the actions of the imagination not be as real as those of perception?