Art is only a means to life, the life more abundant. It merely points the way.

The only difference between the Adamic man and the man of today is that the one was born to Paradise and the other has to create it.

The prisoner is not the one who has commited a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over.

Everything was for tomorrow, but tomorrow never came. The present was only a bridge and on this bridge they are still groaning, as the world groans, and not one idiot ever thinks of blowing up the bridge.

I am living at the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead.

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

It is with the soul that we grasp the essence of another human being, not with the mind, nor even with the heart.