God is still around. One day, you're going to need him. The problems of life will begin to overwhelm you; disappointments will begin to beat upon the door of your life like a tidal wave. And if you don't have a deep and patient faith, you aren't going to be able to make it. I know this from my own experience.
This isn't a show, this is my fucking life. I'm not ashamed, you're entertained. But I'm not a puppet, I am a grenade.
One just needs a little alertness to see and find out: Life is really a great cosmic laughter.
Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins.
There is no God, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell. It is all a dream, a grotesque and foolish dream. Nothing exists but you. And you are but a thought, a vagrant thought, a useless thought, a homeless thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities.
Today we are all speeding under the golden arms of the arches into our city, into our lives, into the world that is a stream of information, ceaselessly collected and projected.
Life wouldn't be worth living if I worried over the future as well as the present. When things are at their worst I find something always happens.
I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
I invented my life by taking for granted that everything I did not like would have an opposite, which I would like.
Old hands soil, it seems, whatever they caress, but they too have their beauty when they are joined in prayer. Young hands were made for caresses and the sheathing of love. It is a pity to make them join too soon.