Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.

Language is a machine for making falsehoods.

All art deals with the absurd and aims at the simple. Good art speaks truth, indeed is truth, perhaps the only truth.

How rarely can happiness be really innocent and not triumphant, not an insult to the deprived.

Every book is the wreck of a perfect idea.

All artists dream of a silence which they must enter, as some creatures return to the sea to spawn.

The notion that one can liberate another soul from captivity is an illusion of the very young.