Let us be grateful to people who make us happy.

It is often hard to bear the tears that we ourselves have caused.

For, just as in the beginning it is formed by desire, so afterwards love is kept in existence only by painful anxiety.

Perhaps the immobility of the things that surround us is forced upon them by our conviction that they are themselves, and not anything else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them.

Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the same person. And as a rule the most recent exhibit remains for some time the only one to be seen.

If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time.

This labour of the artist to discover a means of apprehending beneath matter and experience, beneath words, something different from their appearance, is of an exactly contrary nature to the operation in which pride, passion, intelligence and habit are constantly engaged within us when we spend our lives without self-communion, accumulating as though to hide our true impressions, the terminology for practical ends which we falsely call life.