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The fear of being deceived is the vulgar version of the quest for Truth.
Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.
Woes and wonders of Power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.
What surrounds us we endure better for giving it a name – and moving on.
Jealousy – that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.
Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.
Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.
To Live signifies to believe and hope – to lie and to lie to oneself.
We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.