The best proof of the specificity of the book is that it is at once a reality of the virtual and a virtuality of the real.

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears its truth.

One must always maintain one's connection to the past and yet ceaselessly pull away from it.

If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.

Even a minor event in the life of a child is an event of that child's world and thus a world event.

What is the source of our first suffering? It lies in the fact that we hesitated to speak... It was born in the moment when we accumulated silent things within us.

Reverie is not a mind vacuum. It is rather the gift of an hour which knows the plenitude of the soul.

A house that has been experienced is not an inert box. Inhabited space transcends geometrical space.

When the image is new, the world is new.

Our house is our corner of the world.

Rilke wrote: 'These trees are magnificent, but even more magnificent is the sublime and moving space between them, as though with their growth it too increased.

Teachers have three loves: love of learning, love of learners, and the love of bringing the first two loves together.

If you tend to a flower, it will bloom, no matter how many weeds surround it.

I personally measure success in terms of the contributions an individual makes to his or her fellow human beings.

A company is stronger if it is bound by love rather than by fear.

It was never easy to look into the future, but it is possible and we should not miss our chance.

By 'scientifiction' I mean the Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, and Edgar Allan Poe type of story-a charming romance intermingled with scientific fact and prophetic vision

I just learned my lyrics and tried not to bump into the trumpet player. That was my philosophy.

Stripping for cash is yet another of my many talents

God doesn't look at just what we give. He also looks at what we keep.

The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed Gray Truth is now her painted toy.