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.

A writer is in the broadest sense a spokesman of his community. Through him that community comes to know its heart. Without such knowledge, how long can it survive?

...is the carbon molecule lined with thought?

Humankind struggles with collective powers for its freedom, the individual struggles with dehumanization for the possession of his soul.

Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.

I seem to have the blind self-acceptance of the eccentric who can't conceive that his eccentricities are not clearly understood.

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