Art is the final cunning of the human soul which would rather do anything than face the gods.

Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too. How fortunate we are to be food-consuming animals. Each meal should be a treat and one ought to bless every day which brings with it a good digestion and the precious gift of hunger.

I live, I live, with an absolutely continuous sense of failure. I am always defeated, always. Every book is the wreck of a perfect idea. The years pass and one has only one life. If one has a thing at all one must do it and keep on and on and on trying to do it better.

... a less than perfect meddling in the spiritual world can breed monsters for other people.

So we live; a spirit that broods and hovers over the continual death of time, the lost meaning, the unrecaptured moment, the unremembered face, until the final chop that ends all our moments and plunges that spirit back into the void from which it came.

Art is the final cunning of the human soul which would rather do anything than face the gods.

emotions really exist at the bottom of the personality or at the top. in the middle they are acted. this is why all the world is a stage.