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If one more person tells me this is just like old times, I swear I'll jump out the window.
We work in the dark — we do what we can — we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.
The present was an egg laid by the past that had the future inside its shell.
He who does not think much of himself is much more esteemed than he imagines.
The society based on production is only productive, not creative.
You're a beautiful boy,/
With all your little toys,/
Your eyes have seen the world,/
Though your only four years old,/
And your tears are streaming,/
Even when your smiling,/
Please never be afraid to cry,
Life without a purpose is a languid, drifting thing; every day we ought to review our purpose, saying to ourselves, 'This day let me make a sound beginning
Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon absolute truth.
I cannot and do not live in the world of discretion, not as a writer, anyway. I would prefer to, I assure you -- it would make life easier. But discretion is, unfortunately, not for novelists.
How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?
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