Understanding' is merely the sum total of our misunderstandings.

Who can really distinguish between the sea and what's reflected in it? Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

The whole terrible fight occured in the area of imagination. That is the precise location of our battlefield. It is there, that we experience our victories and defeats.

It's a terrible thing when a person dies, whatever the circumstances. A hole opens up in the world, and we need to pay the proper respects. If we don't, the hole will never be filled in again.

No matter what the situation may be, I still take pleasure in witnessing the joy of others.

Rousseau defined civilizations as when people build fences.

I'd be smiling and chatting away, and my mind would be floating around somewhere else, like a balloon with a broken string.