I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.
Thank God for books and music and things I can think about.
I am afraid. Not of life, or death, or nothingness, but of wasting it as if I had never been.
Intelligence and education that hasn't been tempered by human affection isn't worth a damn.
A short while ago I foolishly thought I could learn everything - all the knowledge in the world. Now I hope only to be able to know of its existence, and to understand one grain of it.
The universe was exploding, each particle away from the next, hurtling us into dark and lonely space, eternally tearing us away from each other - child out of the womb, friend away from friend, moving from each other, each through his own pathway towards the goal-box of solitary death.