Heretics are the only [bitter] remedy against the entropy of human thought.(“Literature, Revolution, and Entropy”)

I am like a machine being driven to excessive rotations: the bearings are incandescing and, in a minute, melted metal will begin to drip and everything will turn to nothing. Quick: get cold water, logic....

Letter To Stalin”)

But clouds bellied out in the sultry heat, the sky cracked open with a crimson gash, spewed flame-and the ancient forest began to smoke. By morning there was a mass of booming, fiery tongues, a...

White-crested waves crash on the shore. The masts sway violently, every which way. In the gray sky the gulls are circling like white flakes. Rain squalls blow past like gray slanting sails, and blue gaps...

Literature is painting, architecture, and music.

The only reason I’m writing this down is to show how human reason, even very sharp and exact human reason, can get crazily confused and thrown off the track.

What we need in literature today are vast philosophic horizons; we need the most ultimate, the most fearsome, the most fearless ‘Why?’ and ‘What next?'(“Literature, Revolution, and Entropy”)

But a thought swarmed in me; what if he, this yellow-eyed being – in his ridiculous, dirty bundle of trees, in his uncalculated life – is happier than us?