At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it. After that, there remains only the journey itself, which is nothing but the process through which we lose our ownership of it.

The mind, by its very nature, persistently tries to live forever, resisting age and attempting to give itself a form... . When a person passes his prime and his life begins to lose true vigor and charm, his mind starts functioning as if it were another form of life; it imitates what life does, eventually doing what life cannot do.

Better to be caught in sudden, complete catastrophe than to be gnawed by the cancer of imagination.

The cynicism that regards hero worship as comical is always shadowed by a sense of physical inferiority

Perfect purity is possible if you turn your life into a line of poetry written with a splash of blood.

His emotion evident in the glitter of his eyes.

Glory, as anyone knows, is bitter stuff.