Man goes nowhere, everything comes to man like tomorrow.
What words say does not last. The words last. Because words are always the same, and what they say is never the same.
Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.
Sometimes at night I light a lamp so as not to see.
Situated in some nebulous distance I do what I do so that the universal balance of which I am a part may remain a balance.
A door opens to me. I go in and am faced with a hundred closed doors.