Human kind cannot bear much reality.

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.

Every moment is a fresh beginning.

Humankind cannot stand reality.

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Art serves us best precisely at that point where it can shift our sense of what is possible, when we know more than we knew before, when we feel we have - by some manner of a leap - encountered the truth. That, by the logic of art, is always worth the pain.

Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.