“There is only one day left, always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.”

I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it’s urgency.

It was odd, he thought, that a man could hate himself as though he were someone else.

Existence is prior to essence.

Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself.

I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it.

For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it.

It’s strange. I felt less lonely when I didn’t know you.

Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out.

You’re lucky. I’m always conscious of myself —in my mind. Painfully conscious.

A madman’s ravings are absurd in relation to the situation in which he finds himself, but not in relation to his madness.

It is disgusting – Why must we have bodies?

Once you hear the details of victory, it is hard to distinguish it from a defeat.

Hell is – other people!

Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance.

A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing.

We are our choices.

Desire is like the shadow caused by the morning sun; it gets longer when you run to catch it.

A household can never appear prosperous without a cow. How auspicious it is to wake up in the morning to the mooing of your own cow!

Fiction and non-fiction are only different techniques of story telling. For reasons I do not fully understand, fiction dances out of me. Non-fiction is wrenched out by the aching, broken world I wake up to every morning.

Having children has made me incredibly efficient. It’s hard to leave them in the mornings, but I’m extremely productive during the day, knowing I want to be fully focused on them when I get home.

It only takes a few minutes in the morning to use gratitude to Have A Magical Day by giving thanks for the events in your day ahead of time, but this one practice alone will change the way your entire day unfolds.

Yes, the first morning of creation wrote what the last dawn of reckoning shall read.

Hold me. Just hold me. And maybe in the morning I’ll be ready to love you.

You smell like a new morning after a night of rainfall.