A great artist is never poor.
All sorrows can be borne if you put them into a story or tell a story about them.
Difficult times have helped me to understand better than before, how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatsoever.
God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road.
God made the world, My Lord, and looked at it, and saw that it was good. Yes. But what if the world had looked back at him, to see whether he was good or not?
Human talk is a centrifugal function, ever in flight outwards from what is on the talker's mind.
I don't believe in evil, I believe only in horror. In nature there is no evil, only an abundance of horror: the plagues and the blights and the ants and the maggots.
I have been told that lions, trapped and shut up in cages, grieve from shame more than from hunger.
I think these difficult times have helped me to realize how infinitely rich and beautiful life is. And that so many things one worries about are of no importance whatsoever.
It never has happened, and it never will happen, and that is why it is told.
Let physicians and confectioners and servants in the great houses be judged by what they have done, and even by what they have meant to do; the great people themselves are judged by what they are. I have been told that lions, trapped and shut up in cages, grieve from shame more than from hunger.
Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine. A young man in love is essentially enraptured by the forces within himself.
Man and woman are two locked caskets, of which each contains the key to the other.
Man reaches the highest point of lovableness at 12 to 17- to get it back, in a second flowering, at the age of 70 to 90.
Nobody has seen the trekking birds take their way towards such warmer spheres as do not exist, or rivers break their course through rocks and plains to run into an ocean which is not to be found. For God does not create a longing or a hope without having a fulfilling reality ready for them. But our longing is our pledge, and blessed are the homesick, for they shall come home.
Of all the idiots I have met in my life, and the Lord knows that they have not been few or little, I think that I have been the biggest.
People who dream when they sleep at night know of a special kind of happiness which the world of the day holds not.
Perhaps he knew, as I did not, that the Earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road.
Real art must always involve some witchcraft.
The best of my nature reveals itself in play, and play is sacred.
The cure for anything is salt water- sweat, tears, or the sea.
The entire being of a woman is a secret which should be kept.
The pleasure of the true dreamer does not lie in the substance of the dream, but in this: that there things happen without any interference from his side, and altogether outside his control.
The true aristocracy and the true proletariat of the world are both in understanding with tragedy. To them it is the fundamental principle of God, and the key, the minor key, to existence. They differ in this way from the bourgeoisie of all classes, who deny tragedy, who will not tolerate it, and to whom the word tragedy means in itself unpleasantness.
There is hardly any other sphere in which prejudice and superstition of the most horrific kind have been retained so long as in that of women, and just as it must have been an inexpressable relief for humanity when it shook off the burden of religious prejudice and superstition, I think it will be truly glorious when women become real people and have the whole world open before them.
Tragedy should remain the right of human beings, subject, in their conditions or in their own nature, to the dire law of necessity. To them it is salvation and beatification.
What is man, when you come to think upon him, but a minutely set, ingenious machine for turning, with infinite artfulness, the red wine of Shiraz into urine?
When you have a great and difficult task, something perhaps almost impossible, if you only work a little at a time, every day a little, suddenly the work will finish itself.
Who tells a finer tale than any of us. Silence does.
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