The purpose of life is to remember.

France may one day exist no more, but the Dordogne will live on just as dreams live on and nourish the souls of men.

The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.

When you come, please be so kind as to check your neuroses and psychoses at the gate... Fans and other obnoxious pests would do well to maintain silence.

All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

Everyone has his own reality in which, if one is not too cautious, timid or frightened, one swims. This is the only reality there is.

There is the happiness which comes from creative effort. The joy of dreaming, creating, building, whether in painting a picture, writing an epic, singing a song, composing a symphony, devising new invention, creating a vast industry.