She was here on earth to make sense of its wild enchantments.

In life it is more necessary to lose than to gain. A seed will only germinate if it dies.

And remember: you must never, under any circumstances, despair. To hope and to act, these are our duties in misfortune.

It is no longer possible for lyric poetry to express the immensity of our experience. Life has grown too cumbersome, too complicated. We have acquired values which are best expressed in prose.

About dreams. It is usually taken for granted that you dream of something that has made a particularly strong impression on you during the day, but it seems to me it´s just the contrary. Often it´s something you paid no attention to at the time -- a vague thought that you didn´t bother to think out to the end, words spoken without feeling and which passed unnoticed -- these are the things that return at night, clothed in flesh and blood, and they become the subjects of dreams, as if to make up for having been ignored during waking hours.

Our evenings are farewells. Our parties are testaments. So that the secret stream of suffering. May warm the cold of life.

But what are pity, conscience, or fear To the brazen pair, compared With the living sorcery Of their hot embraces?