“Books are a refuge, a sort of cloistral refuge, from the vulgarities of the actual world. ”
“Each book was a world unto itself, and in it I took refuge.”
“More and more I lived in books, they were my comfort, refuge, addiction, compensation for the humiliations that attended contact with the world outside.”
“There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance.”
“The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.”
“In 1913, trying desperately to liberate art from the ballast of the representational world, I sought refuge in the form of the square.”