“There are optical illusions in time as well as space.”

In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.

We must never be afraid to go too far, for truth lies beyond.

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.

The highest praise of God consists in the denial of him by the atheist who finds creation so perfect that it can dispense with a creator.

The only true voyage of discovery, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes.

We love only what we do not wholly possess.

People don’t know when they are happy. They’re never so unhappy as they think they are.

One becomes moral as soon as one is unhappy.

The fixity of a habit is generally in direct proportion to its absurdity.

Love is space and time measured by the heart.

The artist who gives up an hour of work for an hour of conversation with a friend knows that he is sacrificing a reality for something that does not exist.

A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves.

It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.

The courage of one’s opinions is always a form of calculating cowardice in the eyes of the other side.

My destination is no longer a place, rather a new way of seeing.

Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them.

Illusions can be changed.

If I live by illusions, you live by excuses.

I’ve always preferred mythology to history. History is truth that becomes an illusion. Mythology is an illusion that becomes reality.

The scent of rain is just as much as an illusion as your love.

There is no real direction here, neither lines of power nor cooperation. Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.

Who knows what true loneliness is – not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.

Through the years, I have learned there is no harm in charging oneself up with delusions between moments of valid inspiration.

Sometimes love is nothing more than a sticky web; illusions spun, from clever minds and bitter hearts.