To laugh is to live profoundly.

Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

But isn't it true that an author can write only about himself?

For the body is temporal and thought is eternal and the shimmering essence of flame is an image of thought.

What is unique about the "I" hides itself exactly in what is unimaginable about a person. All we are able to imagine is what makes everyone like everyone else, what people have in common. The individual "I" is what differs from the common stock, that is, what cannot be guessed at or calculated, what must be unveiled, uncovered, conquered.

The love between dog and man is idyllic, dogs were never expelled from paradise.

...she merely wished to find a way out of the maze. She knew that she had become a burden to him: she took things too seriously, turning everything into a tragedy, and failed to grasp the lightness and amusing insignificance of physical love. How she wished she could learn lightness! She yearned for someone to help her out of her anachronistic shell.