Of course men play roles, but women play roles too, blanker ones. They have, in the play of life, fewer good lines.

All our failures are ultimately failures in love.

Of course men play roles, but women play roles too, blanker ones. They have, in the play of life, fewer good lines.

Art is brief. (Not in a temporal sense.) [...] Words are for concealment. Art is concealment.

Oh the piercing sadness of life in the midst of its ordinariness!

When does one ever know a human being? Perhaps only after one has realized the impossibility of knowledge and renounced the desire for it and finally ceased to feel even the need of it. But then what one achieves is no longer knowledge, it is simply a kind of co-existence; and this too is one of the guises of love.

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