Love is wiser than wisdom.

Once you reach your fifties, you have to stop being interested in the present and write only on Elizabethan poets.

History is a blood-drenched enigma and the world an error.

It is sometimes hard to grasp the difference between identifying with one's own roots, understanding people with other roots, and judging what is good or bad.

The Art of the Romance, though warning us that it is providing fictions, opens a door into the Palace of Absurdity, and when we have lightly stepped inside, slams it shut behind us.

We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.

Every great thinker is someone else's moron.