“But all years are stupid. It’s only when they’re over that they become interesting.”

I am the captain of my destiny, I do not abandon the ship in hard times, But, I do have sense enough not to go down with the ship.

Living is like working out a long addition sum, and if you make a mistake in the first two totals you will never find the right answer. It means involving oneself in a complicated chain of circumstances.

Not believing in anything is also a religion .

In general, the man who is readily disposed to sacrifice himself is one who does not know how else to give meaning to his life. The profession of enthusiasm is the most sickening of all insincerities.

We want Realism’s wealth of experience and Symbolism’s depth of feeling. All art is a problem of balance between two opposites.

There is mercy for everyone, except those who are bored with life.

The man of action is not the headstrong fool who rushes into danger with no thought for himself, but the man who puts into practice the things he knows.

Woman gives herself as a prize to the weak and as a prop to the strong and no man ever has what he should.

One does not kill oneself for love of a woman, but because love – any love – reveals us in our nakedness, our misery, our vulnerability, our nothingness.

It had to happen to you, to concentrate your whole life on one point, and then discover that you can do anything except live at that point.

There is something indecent in words .

Give me the ready hand rather than the ready tongue.

We never remember days, only moments.

Misfortunes cannot suffice to make a fool into an intelligent man.

We do not free ourselves from something by avoiding it, but only by living though it.

It’s pointless to cry. One is born and dies alone.

For time lost may not recovered be.

There’s a certain amount of traveling in a dream deferred.

It was a good place for getting lost in, a city no one ever knew, a city explored from the neutral heart outward, until after many years, it defined itself into a jumble of clearings separated by stretches of the unknown, through which the narrowest of paths had been cut.

There are no magics or elves or timely godmothers to guide us. We are lost, must wizard a track through our own screaming weed.

Liberty, like health, appears most precious when lost.

If you do not know the names of things, the knowledge of them is lost, too.

Things that are not at all, are never lost.

In a world of lost souls how could I ever find a home?