You stand on dead men's legs. You've never had any of your own. You couldn't walk alone between two sunrises and hustle the meat for your belly

There is such a thing as anaesthesia of pain, engendered by pain too exquisite to be borne.

But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called -- called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.

The Stone the Builders Rejected.

The most beautiful stories always start with wreckage.

I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me.

The function of man is to live, not to exist.