And even sadness was also something for rich people, for people who could afford it, for people who didn't have anything better to do. Sadness was a luxury.

I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms.

In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.

Do you know that hope sometimes consists only of a question without an answer?

Today at school I wrote an essay about Flag Day which was so beautiful, but ever so beautiful - for I even used words without really knowing what they meant.

How was she to tie herself to a man without permitting him to imprison her? And was there some means of acquiring things without those things possessing her?

I hear the mad song of a little bird and crush butterflies between my fingers.