A book is less important for what it says than for what it makes you think.

The trick is not minding that it hurts.

Nor dies Revenge although he sleep awhile$$$ For in unquiet$$$ quietness is feigned$$$and slumbering is a common worldly wile.

Things never happen the same way twice.

The more real you get$$$ the more unreal the world gets.

I like silent pictures and I always have ... I wanted to restore some of this beauty. I thought of it$$$ I remember in this way: one of techniques of modern art is simplification$$$ and that I must therefore simplify this film.

I list not trust the air With utterance of our pretence therein$$$ For fear the privy whisp'ring of the wind Convey our words amongst unfriendly ears$$$ That lie too open to advantages.

Perhaps science does not develop by the accumulation of individual discoveries and inventions.

We live in condensations of our imagination.

Tut-tut$$$ it looks like rain$$$