We came to realize how little married couples see of each other once they crawl in the bourgeois box.

I stand in the mist and cry, thinking of myself standing in the mist and crying, and wondering if I will ever be able to use this experience in a book.

Though my friends envied me because I always seemed so cheerful and confident, I was secretly terrified of practically everything.

Any system was a straightjacket if you insisted on adhering to it so totally and humorlessly.

It was easy enough to kill yourself in a fit of despair. It was easy enough to play the martyr. It was harder to do nothing. To endure your life. To wait.

You don't have to beat a woman if you can make her feel guilty.

Husband and wife have no time left to spend together. Marriage took away our one reason for getting married.

Maybe marriages are best in middle age. When all the nonsense falls away and you realize you have to love one another because you're going to die anyway.

We're programmed for suffering, not joy. The masochism is built in at a very early age. You're supposed to work and suffer - and the trouble is: you believe it.

Tears are a form of communication - like speech - and require a listener.

There is nothing fiercer than a failed artist. The energy remains, but having no outlet, it implodes in a great fart of rage which smokes up all the inner windows of the soul.

Actions, not knowledge, bring result.

Learning how to deal with people and their reactions to my life is one of the most challenging things... people staring at me, people asking rude questions, dealing with media, stuff like that.

You call me a misanthrope because I avoid society. You err; I love society. Yet in order not to hate people, I must avoid their company.

Wit, like hunger, will be with great difficulty restrained from falling on vice and ignorance, where there is great plenty and variety of food.

We get to design what we want to see in the world rather than doing what other people think should be done.

If we create a generation of men who aren't getting an education, that's bad for women.

For a devotee death opens door for liberation but for a non-devotee death is end of everything.

If bad decorating was a hanging offense, there'd be bodies hanging from every tree!

I was slipping, man, and it was definetly time to get a grip.

What sweet delight a quiet life affords.