I am quite alone. I am neither happy nor unhappy; I lie suspended like a hair or a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory.

To be the equal of reality you must learn how to ignore it without danger.

I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.

All artists today are expected to cultivate a little fashionable unhappiness.

The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.

The loved object is simply one that has shared an experience at the same moment of time, narcissistically; and the desire to be near the beloved object is at first not due to the idea of possessing it, but simply to let the two experiences compare themselves, like reflections in different mirrors. All this may precede the first look, kiss, or touch; precede ambition, pride, or envy; precede the first declarations which mark the turning point—for from here love degenerates into habit, possession, and back to loneliness.

It is not peace we seek but meaning.