I Like Ideas. I Find Them More

I Dont Know If There Is A Personal Identity. We All Imagine That We Are Absolute Individuals. But When We Begin To Look For Where This Individuality Resides, Its Very Difficult To Find.

All A Work Of Art Can Do Is Present The Surface. I Can't Know The Insides Of People. I Know Very Little About The Inside Of Myself.

The Secret Of Survival Is A Defective Imagination.

Perhaps All Of Life Is No More Than A Long Preparation For The Leaving Of It.

The White May Blossom Swooned Slowly Into The Open Mouth Of The Grave.