When something is bothering me, I seek refuge. No need to travel far; a trip to the realm of literary memory will suffice. For where can one find more noble distraction, more entertaining company, more delightful enchantment than in literature?

With the exception of love, friendship and the beauty of Art, I don't see much else that can nurture human life.

A man who farts in bed . . . is a man who loves life.

Talent consists not in inventing shapes but in causing those that were invisible to emerge.

I am going to die, but that is of no importance.

We don't recognize each other because other people have become our permanent mirrors. If we actually realized this, if we were able to become aware of the fact that we are only ever looking at ourselves in the other person, that we are alone in the wilderness, we would go crazy.

When something is bothering me, I seek refuge. No need to travel far; a trip to the realm of literary memory will suffice. For where can one find more noble distraction, more entertaining company, more delightful enchantment than in literature?