To play safe, I prefer to accept only one type of power: the power of art over trash, the triumph of magic over the brute.

I think it is all a matter of love.

I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.

The evolution of sense is, in a sense, the evolution of nonsense.

I am sufficiently proud of my knowing something to be modest about my not knowing all.

Another tormentor inquired if it was true that I had installed two ping-pong tables in my basement. I asked, was it a crime? No, he said, but why two? Is that a crime? I countered, and they all laughed.

Life is a message scribbled in the dark.