I need an irony punctuation mark for the clueless.
If any man has done wrong, the harm is his own. But perhaps he has not done wrong.
A person's life is dyed with the color of his imagination.
The world is nothing but change, our life is only perception.
Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.
Life is a stranger's sojourn, a night at an inn.
He is a true fugitive who flies from reason.
It's very easy to become selfish and narrow-minded and see ballet as the only thing in life, but there's lots more.
The key to security is public information.
Certainly for me prose has a dilatory capacity, insofar as I don't trust my abilities in prose. I imagine I could have done the same thing in poetry, but sometimes I feel more fluent in poetry than in prose, and as a consequence perhaps I might pass too quickly by a thing that I might, in prose, have struggled merely to articulate. That struggle creates space, and it seems to me a particular kind of space into which memory flows easily. I suspect I think better in poetry, however.
To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things.