The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes.

The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: No other end of the world will there be, No other end of the world will there be.

It is impossible to communicate to people who have not experienced it the undefinable menace of total rationalism.

Two attributes of a poet, avidity of the eye and the desire to describe that which he sees.

It isn't pleasant to surrender to the hegemony of a nation which is still wild and primitive, and to concede the absolute superiority of its customs and institutions, science and technology, literature and art. Must one sacrifice so much in the name of the unity of mankind?

All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.