One is always at home in one's past...

The nostalgia I have been cherishing all these years is a hypertrophied sense of lost childhood, not sorrow for lost banknotes.

I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.… Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.

How small the cosmos (a kangaroo's pouch would hold it), how paltry and puny in comparison to human consciousness, to a single individual recollection, and its expression in words!

I discovered in nature the non utilitarian delights that I sought in art. Both were a form of magic, both were a game of intricate enchantment and deception.

...for she soars with the wildest hyperbole when not tagging after the most pedestrian dictum.

Everything he said should be followed by a big sic

You have to taste a culture to understand it.

I want all hellions to quit puffing that hell fume in God's clean air.

Fashion is what time looks like.

The song is about love, life, fear and hope... and more than anything, you... and me...

You're tearing me apart!

I remember things like that...A lifetimes accredidation of unkindness, all of those little longering hurts that I carried around like stones sewn into my pockets.

I'm hard-nosed about luck...If you're persistent in trying and doing and working, you almost always make your own fortune.

From each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs.

Every man was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Well I sup and well I dine, When I drink my frolic wine.