Life

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm a completely normal person, you know.

You know I'd hate to be one of those guys who walks around talking about how miserable their lives are, but the last three years, things that have happened to me, I've never heard about happening to anybody. Ever. It's just been a run of the gambit. So everybody's going like that, see.

Life finds a way.

At different times in my life, I worked in very different fields.

I don't know who I am, professionally speaking.

I am basically a human landfill. I want to live a very packed life.

The only thing I dread is boredom. It's the only thing that terrifies me.

Every increase in the power of man, every increase in his life-expectancy, is an increase in his responsibility.

The opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.

What is life but a warfare and a stranger's sojourn?

In old age we are like a batch of letters that someone has sent. We are no longer in the past, we have arrived.

The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence.

It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime.

There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood.

I wonder if you realize how much of my life I've spent loving you.

In the cicada's cry, no sign can foretell how soon it must die.

You have your brush, you have your colors, you paint the paradise, then in you go.

The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats.