My thought has been shaped by books; my desires by pictures.
Secrets die when kept or revealed. They live by being faintly and uncertainly repeated.
Tears are great peace-makers.
Existence is not a mystery unless you think it has a meaning.
Literary tradition is full of lies about poverty-the jolly beggar, the poor but happy milkmaid, the wholesome diet of porridge, etc.
Men and women would be even more unhappy if they really understood one another.