I have scarcely touched the sky and I am made of it.
Everything that I bear within me bound, is to be found somewhere else free.
Everything had been stripped of deceptions, that time. And that time I was afraid of everything.
I would ask something more of this world, if it had something more.
He who makes a paradise of his bread makes a hell of his hunger.
My great day came and went, I do not know how. Because it did not pass through dawn when it came, nor through dusk when it went.