If only I could leave everything as it is, without moving a single star or a single cloud. Oh, if only I could!
Truth has very few friends and those few are suicides.
I can wait for you longer. Because you have arrived.
Not believing has a sickness which is believing a little.
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.
You do not see the river of mourning because it lacks one tear of your own.