My bits of time play with eternity.
He who holds me by a thread is not strong; the thread is strong.
Almost always it is the fear of being ourselves that brings us to the mirror.
God has given a great deal to man, but man would like something from man.
When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest.
When everything is finished, the mornings are sad.