(Socrates) said there were only two possibilities. Either the soul is immortal or, after death, things would be again as blank as they were before we were born.

It's usually the selfish people who are loved the most. They do what you deny yourself, and you love them for it. You give them your heart.

I have, perhaps, a slave-like constitution which is too easily restrained by bonds; it then becomes rebellious and bursts out in a comic revolution.

The spirit knows that its growth is the real aim of existence.

Facts always are sensational.

At moments I dislike having a face, a nose, lips, because he has them.

I am deeply moved when I write. I get turned on by it. I've never used any drugs for stimulation. I don't use words loosely. When I'm working and the right word comes, there is an answering resonance within me. There is also a hardness of intention that goes with it. There is no idleness in it.