I am fierce for work. Without work I am nothing.

I am fierce for work. Without work I am nothing.

Youth knows no remedy for grief but death.

Most gay, conversational, careless, lovely city ... where one drinks golden Tokay until one feels most beautiful, and warm and loved - oh, Budapesth!

I would, if I could, always feed to music. The singularly graceless action of thus filling one's body with roots and dead animals and powdered grain is given some significance then. One can perform as a ritual what one is shamed to do as a utilitarian action.

we are so little, so ignorant, so feeble an infant race crawling on a planet between immensities we haven't even begun to understand, that really we have no grounds for either congratulation or despair.

A sense of humor is so handy, isn't it? It lets you see both sides of a question so that you never need do anything.