Why do I doubt her? Perhaps she is just very sensitive, and hypersensitive people are false when others doubt them; they waver. And one thinks them insincere. Yet I want to believe her. At the same time it does not seem so very important that she should love me. It is not her role. I am so filled with my love of her. And at the same time I feel that I am dying. Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too.

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

she acquired the certainty of the expansion of time by depth of emotion, range and infinite multiplicity of experience.

When I cannot bear outer pressures anymore, I begin to put order in my belongings...As if unable to organize and control my life, I seek to exert this on the world of objects.

The period without the diary remains an ordeal. Every evening I want my diary as one wants opium.