No one is a light unto himself, not even the sun.

When everything is finished, the mornings are sad.

Without this ridiculous vanity that takes the form of self-display, and is part of everything and everyone, we would see nothing, and nothing would exist.

Yes, I will go. I would rather grieve over your absence than over you.

The flower that you hold in your hands was born today and already it is as old as you are.

The children whom nobody leads by the hand are the children who know they are children.

You can owe nothing, if you give back its light to the sun.