Writing about an idea frees me of it. Thinking about it is a circle of repetitions.
Loneliness is more likely to lead to fussy housekeeping than to grand views of the Universe.
Every work of art changes its predecessors.
A budget takes the fun out of money.
Victorian sorrow: the stars are winking in the sky, but not for us.
In the city, nudity means something; in the wild, it just exists.