What men classify as living is often but the discontentment of making oneself itch just to enjoy the scratch.

Imagination doesn't always make you long for what you cannot have, but rather thrive in what you do not have.

Yes, be different, but not for the vanities of being different.

It is sometimes but the mere hope for enjoyment that allows one to enjoy something, even when he is not really enjoying it at the moment.

Work was intended not to give a man a reason to live, but rather to give him a means to live.

Still, I may have been glad to scratch the dry surface of our day-to-day peaceableness the way Violetta had clawed the sere crust on her limbs, anything to get something bright and liquid flowing again, out in the open and slippery between our fingers.