Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything Godlike about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.

The world is two thirds spaghetti and meatballs, one third syphilitic chancre.

For the moment I can think of nothing— except that I am a sentient being stabbed by the miracle of these waters that reflect a forgotten world.

If men cease to believe that they will one day become gods then they will surely become worms.

The waking mind, you see, is the least serviceable in the arts.

Man, as man, has never realized himself. The greater part of him, his potential being, has always been submerged. What is history if not the endless story of his repeated failures?

Words, sentences, ideas, no matter how subtle or ingenious, the maddest flights of poetry, the most profound dreams, the most hallucinating visions, are but crude hieroglyphs chiseled in pain and sorrow to commemorate an event which is untransmissible.