Music is only love looking for words.

Shyness has laws you can only give yourself; tragically to those who least understand.

It’s only with great vulgarity that you can achieve real refinement, only out of bawdry that you can get tenderness.

They flower spontaneously out of the demands of our natures - and the best of them lead us not only outward in space, but inward as well.

It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.

Truth disappears with the telling of it.

These are the moments which are not calculable, and cannot be assessed in words; they live on in the solution of memory, like wonderful creatures, unique of their own kind, dredged up from the floors of some unexplored ocean.