Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.

If age, which is certainly Just as wicked as youth, look any wiser, It is only that youth is still able to believe It will get away with anything, while age Knows only too well that it has got away with nothing.

The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in.

What the poet says has never been said before, but, once he has said it, his readers recognize its validity for themselves.

Fame often makes a writer vain, but seldom makes him proud.

Art is born of humiliation.

How happy the lot of the mathematician. He is judged solely by his peers, and the standard is so high that no colleague or rival can ever win a reputation he does not deserve.