The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.
Whatever the heart desires, it purchases at the cost of soul
Like all young men I set out to be a genius, but mercifully laughter intervened.
We are all hunting for rational reasons for believing in the absurd.
The whole Mediterranean, the sculpture, the palm, the gold beads, the bearded heroes, the wine, the ideas, the ships, the moonlight, the winged gorgons, the bronze men, the philosophers - all of it seems to rise in the sour, pungent taste of these black olives between the teeth. A taste older than meat, older than wine. A taste as old as cold water.
I don’t believe one reads to escape reality. A person reads to confirm a reality he knows is there, but which he has not experienced.
Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.
Life is more complicated than we think, yet far simpler than anyone dares to imagine
Truth is a woman. That is why it is enigmatic.
The loved object is simply one that has shared an experience at the same moment of time, narcissistically; and the desire to be near the beloved object is at first not due to the idea of possessing it, but simply to let the two experiences compare themselves, like reflections in different mirrors. All this may precede the first look, kiss, or touch; precede ambition, pride, or envy; precede the first declarations which mark the turning point—for from here love degenerates into habit, possession, and back to loneliness.
Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?
Try and travel with the eyes of the spirit wide open, and not too much factual information. To tune in, without reverence, idly -- but with real inward attention. It is to be had for the feeling, that mysterious sense of rapport, of identity with the ground. You can extract the essence of a place once you know how. If you just get as still as a needle you'll be there.
Science is the poetry of the intellect and poetry the science of the heart's affections.
They say that if you get bored enough with calamity you can learn to laugh.
Truth disappears with the telling of it.
It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.
Lovers can find nothing to say to each other that has not been said and unsaid a thousand times over. Kisses were invented to translate such nothings into wounds
A city becomes a world when one loves one of its inhabitants.
It is not peace we seek but meaning.
Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.
It takes a lot of energy and a lot of neurosis to write a novel. If you were really sensible, you'd do something else.
A diary is the last place to go if you wish to seek the truth about a person. Nobody dares to make the final confession to themselves on paper: or at least, not about love.
Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.
Somewhere in the heart of experience there is an order and a coherence which we might purprise if we were attentive enough, loving enough, or patient enough.
Every man is made of clay and diamond, and no woman can nourish both.
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