Myths are public dreams$$$ dreams are private myths.

There is no language without deceit.

You take delight not in a city's seven or seventy wonders$$$ but in the answer it gives to a question of yours.

In the morning you wake from one bad dream and another begins.

A classic is the term given to any book which comes to represent the whole universe$$$ a book on a par with ancient talismans.

The cemetery is the home of those who are not here$$$ come in.

We all have a secret wound which we are fighting to avenge.

To be happy$$$ we must not be too concerned with others.

Memory really matters...only if it enables us to become without ceasing to be$$$ and to be without ceasing to become.

All great art is a form of complaint.