Now that lilacs are in bloom She has a bowl of lilacs in her room And twists one in her fingers while she talks. "Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know What life is, you who hold it in your hands"; (slowly twisting the lilac stalks) "You let it flow from you, you let it flow, And youth is cruel, and has no remorse And smiles at situations which it cannot see." I smile, of course, And go on drinking tea.

The role of art is not to express the personality but to overcome it.

If one has to earn a living, therefore, the safest occupation is that most remote from the arts.

I can connect Nothing with nothing

I've been born, and once is enough.

If you desire to drain to the dregs the fullest cup of scorn and hatred that a fellow human being can pour out for you, let a young mother hear you call dear baby 'it.'

I think we are in rats’ alley Where the dead men lost their bones.