Given that we can live only a small part of what there is in us -- what happens with the rest?

What did i know of your fantasies? Why do we know so little about the fantasies of our parents? What do we know of somebody if we know nothing of the images passed to him by his imagination?

Given that we can live only a small part of what there is in us -- what happens with the rest?

I love tunnels. They 're the symbol of hope: sometime it will be bright again. If by chance it is not night.

Human beings can't bear silence.It would mean that they would bear themselves.

A feeling is no longer the same when it comes the second time. It dies through the awareness of its return. We become tired and weary of our feelings when they come too often and last too long.

Sometimes, we are afraid of something because we're afraid of something else.