I love solitude, but I prize it most when plenty of company is available.
The two real problems in life are boredom and death.
Art is order, made out of the chaos of life.
People don't realize how much they are in the grip of ideas. We live among ideas much more than we live in nature.
There are evils that have the ability to survive identification and go on for ever... money, for instance, or war.
All human accomplishment has the same origin, identically. Imagination is a force of nature. Is this not enough to make a person full of ecstasy? Imagination, imagination, imagination.