We fall in love when our imagination projects nonexistent perfection upon another person. One day, the fantasy evaporates and with it, love dies.
The type of human being we prefer reveals the contours of our heart.
Man has to live with the body and soul which have fallen to him by chance.
Being an artist means ceasing to take seriously that very serious person we are when we are not an artist.
Life is a series of collisions with the future.
What makes a nation great is not primarily its great men, but the stature of its innumerable mediocre ones.