We are ignorant of the meaning of the dragon in the same way that we are ignorant of the meaning of the universe; but there is something in the dragon’s image that fits man’s imagination, and this accounts for the dragon’s appearance in different places and periods.

All theories are legitimate, no matter. What matters is what you do with them.

I imagined a labyrinth of labyrinths, a maze of mazes, a twisting, turning, ever-widening labyrinth that contained both past and future and somehow implied the stars. Absorbed in those illusory imaginings, I forgot that I was a pursued man; I felt myself, for an indefinite while, the abstract perceiver of the world. The vague, living countryside, the moon, the remains of the day did their work in me; so did the gently downward road, which forestalled all possibility of weariness. The evening was near, yet infinite.

I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left.

Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone.

Art always opts for the individual, the concrete; art is not Platonic.