Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors. |
I love every bone in their heads. |
One should either be sad or joyful. Contentment is a warm sty for eaters and sleepers. |
Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue. |
When you're 50 you start thinking about things you haven't thought about before. I used to think getting old was about vanity - but actually it's about losing people you love. Getting wrinkles is trivial. |
Life is a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors. |
Obsessed by a fairy tale, we spend our lives searching for a magic door and a lost kingdom of peace. |
When men make gods, there is no God! |
Man's loneliness is but his fear of life. |