All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.

It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.

Women are all the bloody sameyou can't love for five minutes without wanting it abolished in brats and house bloody wifery.

It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter.

To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.

To restore silence is the role of objects.

To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.