Life is all getting used to what you're not used to.
Life was an impenetrable mystery cloaked in babble.
The minute you become conscious that you are doing good, that's the minute you have to stop because from then on it's wrong.
People steal into one's consciousness and occupy what seems, in retrospect, to have been their place all along.
Words are nets through which all truth escapes.
Imagination has to do with one's awareness of the reality of other people as well as of one's own reality. Imagination is a bridge between the provincialism of the self and the great world.