“Our own physical body possesses a wisdom which we who inhabit the body lack. We give it orders which make no sense.”
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The worst sin that can be committed against the artist is to take him at his word, to see in his work a fulfillment instead of an horizon.
We live in the mind, in ideas, in fragments. We no longer drink in the wild outer music of the streets - we remember only.
Every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it leads him.
The only thing we never get enough of is love and the only thing we never give enough of is love.
