Dawn's faint breath breathes with your mouth at the ends of empty streets. Gray light your eyes, sweet drops of dawn on dark hills. Your steps and breath like the wind of dawn smother houses. The city shudders, Stones exhale— you are life, an awakening. Star lost in the light of dawn, trill of the breeze, warmth, breath— the night is done. You are light and morning.

The man who cannot live with charity, sharing other men's pain, is punished by feeling his own with intolerable anguish.

Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in this world.

You don't remember days, you remember moments.

To know the world, one must construct it

Artists are the monks of the bourgeois state.

The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.