The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.

O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.

I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent

It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.

In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.

Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.

I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.