Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.
Weep for the lives your wishes never led.
In the end, art is small beer. The really serious things are earning one's living so as not to be a parasite and loving one's neighbor.
Fate succumbs many a species: one alone jeopardises itself.
No poet or novelist wishes he were the only one who ever lived, but most of them wish they were the only one alive, and quite a number fondly believe their wish has been granted.
