A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for illusion is deep.

Death is the black backing on the mirror that allows us to see anything at all.

With one long breath, caught and held in his chest, he fought his sadness over his solitary life. Don't cry, you idiot! Live or die, but don't poison everything.

But privately when things got very bad I often looked into books to see whether I could find some helpful words, and one day I read, "The forgiveness of sins is perpetual and righteousness first is not required." This impressed me so deeply that I went around saying it to myself. But then I forgot which book it was.

I love solitude, but I prize it most when plenty of company is available.

My face too blind, my mind too limited, my instincts too narrow. But this intensity, doesn't it mean anything?

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