I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.
The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect.
The theme is the theme of humiliation, which is the square root of sin, as opposed to the freedom from humiliation, and love, which is the square root of wonderful.
There's nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book.