Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown.

Everyman, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths.

It was only in my forties that I started feeling young.

The dreamer whose dreams are non-utilitarian has no place in this world. In this world the poet is anathema, the thinker a fool, the artist an escapist, the man of vision a criminal.

Madness is tonic and invigorating. It makes the sane more sane. The only ones who are unable to profit by it are the insane.

The City of New York is like an enormous citadel, a modern Carcassonne. Walking between the magnificent skyscrapers one feels the presence on the fringe of a howling, raging mob, a mob with empty bellies, a mob unshaven and in rags.

To be joyous is to be a madman in a world of sad ghosts.