Maybe that's what being alive is about: so we can track down those movments that are dying.

The real ordeal is not leaving those you love but learning to live without those who don't love you.

What is writing, no matter how lavish the pieces, if it says nothing of the truth, cares little for the heart, and is merely subservient to the pleasure of showing one's brilliance.

Art is emotion without desire.

... they have never seen you ... I would recognize you anywhere.

Some people are incapable of perceiving in the object of their contemplation the very thing that gives it its intrinsic life and breath, and they spend their entire lives conversing about mankind as if they were robots, and about things as though they have no soul and must be reduced to what can be said about them - all at the whim of their own subjective inspiration.

Entrusting one's life is not the same as opening up one's soul.