The Bible is a sanctum; the world, sputum.
Dread of night. Dread of not-night.
The Fathers of the Church were not afraid to go out into the desert because they had a richness in their hearts. But we, with richness all around us, are afraid, because the desert is in our hearts.
Some books seem like a key to unfamiliar rooms in one’s own castle.
I carry the bars within me.
There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe ... but not for us.
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, that is something you are free to do and it accords with your nature, but perhaps this very holding back is the one suffering you could avoid.
Palestine needs earth, but it does not need lawyers.
The true word leads; the untrue misleads.
I have hardly anything in common with myself and should stand very quietly in a corner, content that I can breathe.
Man cannot live without a continuous confidence in something indestructible within himself.
I am a retiring, silent, unsociable, and discontent person.
One of the most effective means of seduction that Evil has is the challenge to struggle. It is like the struggle with women, whichends in bed. A married man's true deviations from the path of virtue are, rightly understood, never gay.
The man in ecstasy and the man drowning - both throw up their arms. The first to signify harmony, the second to signify strife with the elements.
This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.
Love is a drama of contradictions.
Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.
One day, a leopard stalked into the synagogue, roaring and lashing its tail. Three weeks later, it had become part of the liturgy.
He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.
A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.
So long as you have food in your mouth, you have solved all questions for the time being.
In me, by myself, without human relationship, there are no visible lies. The limited circle is pure.
Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
There is a destination but no way there; what we refer to as way is hesitation.
There has never been a time in which I have been convinced from within myself that I am alive. You see, I have only such a fugitive awareness of things around me that I always feel they were once real and are now fleeting away. I have a constant longing, my dear sir, to catch a glimpse of things as they may have been before they show themselves to me.
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