Our language is primarily for expressing human goodness and beauty.

They were words that came out of nothing, but they seemed to him somehow significant. He muttered them over again.

A poetess who had died young of cancer had said in one of her poems that for her, on sleepless nights, 'the night offers toads and black dogs and corpses of the drowned.

Now, even more than the evening before, he could think of no one with whom to compare her. She had become absolute, beyond comparison. She had become decision and fate.

From the way of Go the beauty of Japan and the Orient had fled. Everything had become science and regulation.

Lunatics have no age. If we were crazy, you and I, we might be a great deal younger.

Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words.