To the lover the loved one always appears as solitary.

Work on a good piece of writing proceeds on three levels: a musical one, where it is composed, an architectural one, where it is constructed, and finally a textile one, where it is woven.

Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories.

Ownership is the most intimate relationship that one can have to objects. Not that they come alive in him; it is he who lives in them.

Our image of happiness is indissolubly bound up with the image of the past.

Any order is a balancing act of extreme precariousness.

The destructive character lives from the feeling, not that life is worth living, but that suicide is not worth the trouble.