We live in the kind of world where there is so much insecurity, where people seek such protection in the pack, in uniformity, that they always have to be reassured.
Do not be in a hurry to rush into the pleasures of the world like the young antelope who danced herself lame when the main dance was yet to come.
I hold the world to be a manifestation of the possibility of order.
The world has raised its whip; where will it descend?
But I’m still a civilized man, you know, and a man needs more than scents and shadows to make sense of the world. A fella needs a story.
We've known for a long time that it was no longer possible to overturn this world, nor reshape it, nor head off its dangerous headlong rush. There's been only one possible resistance: to not take it seriously.
Whether we sleep or wake, the vast machinery of the universe still goes on.
It is a pleasant world we live in, sir, a very pleasant world. There are bad people in it.
The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me.
The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite, perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries.
THE WORLD had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.
The world is merely a dream dreamt by god who is waking after a long sleep.
The world, according to my father, was exactly like the human body and had its own defence mechanisms with which it defended itself against anything that either threatened it or was unnecessary to it.
His world was patched together from the wreckage of an infinitely finer, immemorial dwelling place; the pieces were precious and lovely, enough to break his heart, but they did not fit.