We asked for workers. We got people instead.

The difference between an author and a horse is that the horse doesn't understand the horse dealer's language.

You can put anything into words, except your own life.

We asked for workers. We got people instead.

We know that every person who is loved feels transformed, unfolded, and he unfolds everything, the most intimate as well as the most familiar, to the one who loves him as well as to himself.... The person one loves is as ungraspable as the universe, as God's infinite space, he is boundless, full of possibilities, full of secrets.

It is conceivable at least that a late generation, such as we presumably are, has particular need of the sketch, in order not to be strangled to death by inherited conceptions which preclude new births.... The sketch has direction, but no ending; the sketch as reflection of a view of life that is no longer conclusive, or is not yet conclusive.

When we travel, we are like a film at the moment of exposure; it is memory that will develop it.