The end is low, like all quantitative ends, personal or not, and it can be attained and verified.

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur. That is why there are unforgettable moments and unique people!

Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.

My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

The slope takes you to the windmill, but effort takes you nowhere.

We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.

There are no norms. All people are exceptions to a rule that doesn’t exist.

Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.

I am nothing. I'll never be anything. I couldn't want to be something. Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world.

It's been a long time since I've been me.

I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided.

Retaining our capacity for reasonis common sense, but definite conclusions and beliefs keep us from seeing life as it really is at any given moment.

I will never forget what you did to me. I will never forgive it. I will never stop mourning what you stole from me. But I realize now I can't steal it back and I'm done spending every day trying to.

There is a place for visionaries and the avant-garde in this world, but not at 9 o'clock on a network.

Melancholy sees the worst of things...[rather than the best]

Use the right word, not its second cousin.

We all know that looking back only gets you into an accident because you're going to run into something without seeing it.

The Jews have never been ashamed of being Jews, whereas homosexuals have been stupid enough to be ashamed of their homosexuality.

Irish fiction is full of secrets, guilty pasts, divided identities. It is no wonder that there is such a rich tradition of Gothic writing in a nation so haunted by history.

Man is certainly the most disgusting kind of worm that has ever crawled on this stupid ugly planet.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.