I was left behind with the immensity of existing things. A sponge, suffering because it cannot saturate itself; a river, suffering because reflections of clouds and trees are not clouds and trees.

A true opium of the people is a belief in nothingness after death.

The soul exceeds its circumstances.

You see how I try To reach with words What matters most And how I fail.

I liked beaches, swimming pools, and clinics for there they were the bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. I pitied them and myself, but this will not protect me. The word and the thought are over.

Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth.

Irony is the glory of slaves.