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

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

Injury, when it is slight, upsets me; when it is strong it calms me.

What words say does not last. The words last. Because words are always the same, and what they say is never the same.

He who has made a thousand things and he who has made none, both feel the same desire: to make something.

I love you as you are, but do not tell me how that is.

Would there be this eternal seeking if the found existed?