Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because there is no way of doing without them.
What is this self inside us, this silent observer,
Severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us
And urge us on to futile activity
And in the end, judge us still more severely
For the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?
A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her.
Sex is a doorway to something so powerful and mystical, but movies usually depict it in a completely flat way.
All the concessions we make to Eros, are holes in our desire for the absolute