Something tells me that immortality is monstrous.

God is a book I can no longer read.

Only God would adore his own death.

A constant human error: to believe in an end to one's fantasies. Our daydreams are the measure of our unreachable truth. The secret of all things lies in the emptiness of the formula that guard them.

There is no way I can avoid thinking about the kind of world I belong to. The abuse of utopias disfigures everything.

The deeper I go into myself the more I realize that I am my own enemy.

I protect myself by refusing to know myself.

There comes a time when all that remains for us to do is to surrender to the idiosyncrasies of our nature.

To duplicate meanings is to isolate the consciousness.

Ideals make reason inaccessible.

Madness plants mirrors in the desert. I find the means frightening.

Connecting with yourself and knowing yourself is a monumental and life changing event.

The minute you step away from the negative people in your life you will instantly see the beauty in your horizon.

Evidence for or against God, if it is there, saturates every moment of the experience of existence, every employment of reason, every act of consciousness, every encounter with the world around us.

It's all very confusing. I think I'm very honest and candid, but I'm also proud of how honest and candid I am -- so where does that put me?

I discover methods for myself and then read books that describe 'my' method. This leads me to believe that the creative well is shared in some magical way.

Tender expressions of love and affection toward children are as much the responsibility of the father as the mother. Tell your children you love them.

I'm interested in that whole question of where we wear our identity and how can we see it.

People are fond of using the its not what you know, its who you know adage as an excuse for inaction, as if all successful people are born with powerful friends. Nonsense.

To live in the moment and in the future at the same time would seem to me to be the trick.

I think there are a number of little Ribbentrops running around. But Molotov hasn't found a good enough deal yet.