My mind speaks English, my heart speaks Russian, and my ear prefers French.

I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze I cannot get out, said the starling

Literature and butterflies are the two sweetest passions known to man.

...in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life.

My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God; but was I free?

Even while writing his book, he had become painfully aware how little he knew his own planet while attempting to piece together another one from jagged bits filched from deranged brains.

For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me.