Every artist is an unhappy lover. And unhappy lovers want to tell their story.

Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.

The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart.

The human soul is not framed for continued proximity, and the result of this enforced neighbourhood is often an appalling loneliness for which the rules of the game forbid assuagement.

For most of us, for almost all of us, truth can be attained, if at all, only in silence. It is in silence that the human spirit touches the divine.

Music relates sound and time and so pictures the ultimate edges of human commmunications.

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