Death is the dark backing a mirror needs if we are to see anything

Death deserves dignity.

I feel that art has something to do with the achievement of stillness in the midst of chaos.

We are funny creatures. We don't see the stars as they are, so why do we love them? They are not small gold objects, but endless fire.

I mean you have been disappointed in love, but don't you know how many things there are to be disappointed in besides love? You are lucky to be still disappointed in love. Later it may be even more terrible.

Those who have a why to live for can bear almost any how. The necessary premise is that a person is somehow more than his or her "characteristics," all the emotions, strivings, tastes, and constructions which it pleases us to call "My Life." We have grounds to hope that a Life is something more than a cloud of particles, mere facticity. Go through what is comprehensible and you conclude that only the incomprehensible gives any light.

The best argument is an undeniably good book.