It's just a feeling I have. What you see with your eyes is not necessarily real. My enemy is, among other things, the me inside me.

What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.

Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle, can unconsciously eat away at a person’s heart and dissolve it.

Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg.

If there’s something I can’t do but want to, I won’t relax until I’m able to do it.

Genius or fool, you don't live in the world alone. You can hide underground or you can build a wall around yourself, but somebody's going to come along and screw up the works.

Our memory is made up of our individual memories and our collective memories. The two are intimately linked. And history is our collective memory. If our collective memory is taken from us - is rewritten - we lose the ability to sustain our true selves.