I suppose one has to remember that 'life' is important too, though it's something I forget in some moods, everything except work seeming like an interruption or really non-life.

When it comes to the important things one is always alone.

One of the springs of poetry is joy.

I can tell you that solitude Is not all exaltation, inner space Where the soul breathes and work can be done. Solitude exposes the nerve, Raises up ghosts. The past, never at rest, flows through it.

Without anxiety life would have very little savor.

Don't forget that compared to a grownup person every baby is a genius.

It is dark now. The snow is deep blue and the ocean nearly black. It is time for some music.