Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.
Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.
I've always rejected being understood. To be understood is to prostitute oneself. I prefer to be taken seriously for what I'm not, remaining humanly unknown, with naturalness and all due respect
I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided.
I'm sick of everything, and of the everythingness of everything.
I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me.
...the painful intensity of my sensations, even when they're happy ones; the blissful intensity of my sensations, even when they're sad.
To have opinions is to sell out to youself. To have no opinions is to exist. To have every opinion is to be a poet.
Art consists in making others feel what we feel.
Blessed are those who entrust their lives to no one.
Ah, it's my longing for whom I might have been that distracts and torments me!
Be what I think? But I think of being so many things!
But do we really live? To live without knowing what life is - is that living?