Art arises from sources other than logic." (p.32)

We all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life may be something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that Beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspiring, is playing the “Es muss sein!” to our own great love.

Kitsch excludes everything from its purview which is essentially unacceptable in human existence.

We pass through the present with our eyes blindfolded. We are permitted merely to sense and guess at what we are actually experiencing. Only later when the cloth is untied can we glance at the past and find out what we have experienced and what meaning it has.

She is sadder and sadder, and for a man there is no balm more soothing than the sadness he has caused a woman.

Our dreams prove that to imagine - to dream about things that have not happened - is among mankind's deepest needs.

When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.