The study of sickness is the most poetic of the sciences.
After all, there is nothing but failure.
Very often we write down a sentence too early, then another too late; what we have to do is write it down at the proper time, otherwise it's lost.
Only when I am by seawater can I truly breathe, to say nothing of my ability to think.
All of living is nothing but a fervid attempt to move closer together.
It would be wrong to refuse to face the fact that everything is fundamentally sick and sad.