After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter.
The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.
When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.
It was the East that should have sent us missionaries.
An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.
Love is mainly an affair of short spasms. If these spasms disappoint us, love dies. It is very seldom that it weathers the experience and becomes friendship.