An idea is like a rare bird which cannot be seen. What one sees is the trembling of the branch it has just left.

Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.

Art—the meaning of the pattern of our common actions in reality. The cloth-of-gold that hides behind the sackcloth of reality, forced out by the pain of human memory.

People only see in us the contemptible skirt-fever which rules our actions but completely miss the beauty-hunger underlying it.

Truth is a matter of direct apprehension-you can't climb a ladder of mental concepts to it.

Life is more complicated than we think, yet far simpler than anyone dares to imagine

The memory of man is as old as misfortune