"Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot?"
"That was the simplest expression of it. He would like to spend a long, long time with her. He did not believe there was ever going to be any such thing as a long time any more but if there ever was such a thing he would like to spend it with her."
"The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere."
"There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought."
"How come no one told me all throughout history the loneliest people are the ones who always spoke the truth. The ones who made a difference, but withstanding indifference."
"It is in response to suffering that many—and perhaps all men—individually, and in their groups, define themselves, take on character, and develop the ethos."