If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

I can’t let you go now. I want to go places with you; obscure little places, just to be able to say: here I came with her.

Innocence was gone from all our acts. Our habitual state of rebellion became a serious political crime.

I want to do things so wild with you that I don't know how to say them.

I cannot concentrate all my friendship on any single one of my friends because no one is complete enough in himself.

Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite.

The complaints of the child in us will never cease lamenting until it is consoled, answered, understood. Only then will it lie still in us, like our fears. It will die in peace and leave us what the child leaves to the man - the sense of wonder.