Bourbon does for me what the piece of cake did for Proust.

Not to be onto something is to be in despair.

What needs to be discharged is the intolerable tenderness of the past, the past gone and grieved over and never made sense of. Music ransoms us from the past, declares an amnesty, brackets and sets aside the old puzzles. Sing a new song. Start a new life, get a girl, look into her shadowy eyes, smile.

I had discovered that a person does not have to be this or be that or be anything, not even oneself. One is free.

[In art] you are telling the reader or the listener or the viewer something he already knows but which he doesn't quite know that he knows, so that in the action of communication he experiences a recognition, a feeling that he has been there before, a shock of recognition.

You can get all A's and still flunk life.

Lucky is the man who does not secretly believe that every possibility is open to him.