It Takes A Fool To Rush Off

... But Food Eaten Quickly Isn't Food.

A Man Is Happy So Long As He Chooses To Be Happy And Nothing Can Stop Him.

When I Was In The Gulag I Would Sometimes Even Write On Stone Walls. I Used To Write On Scraps Of Paper, Then I Memorised The Contents And Destroyed The Scraps.

... We Brush Aside All Scales Not Our Own, As If They Were Follies Or Delusions.

A Work Of Art Contains Its Verification In Itself: Artificial, Strained Concepts Do Not Withstand The Test Of Being Turned Into Images; They Fall To Pieces, Turn Out To Be Sickly And Pale, Convince No One. Works Which Draw On Truth And Present It To Us In Live And Concentrated Form Grip Us, Compellingly Involve Us, And No One Ever, Not Even Ages Hence, Will Come Forth To Refute Them.