Absence becomes the greatest Presence.

The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.

It is curious how any making of order makes one feel mentally ordered, ordered inside.

How slowly one comes to understand anything!

[In old age] there is a childlike innocence, often, that has nothing to do with the childishness of senility. The moments become precious . . .

It is dangerous it seems to me for a civilization when there is a complete abyss betewen people in general and the artists. Or is it always so? The poets who are most ardently on the people's side write in such a way that the people cannot see rhyme nor reason to their work.

all great people are humble because great people have great work and are humbled by the largeness of their dreams.