There is no science without fancy and no art without fact.

I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.… Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.

She was like Marat only with nobody to kill her.

I shall be dumped where the weed decays, And the rest is rust and stardust

The spiral is a spiritualized circle. In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious; it has been set free.

I would like to spare the time and effort of hack reviewers and, generally, persons who move their lips when reading.

Beauty plus pity-that is the closest we can get to a definition of art. Where there is beauty there is pity for the simple reason that beauty must die: beauty always dies, the manner dies with the matter, the world dies with the individual.