A child. . . opens and closes like a blossom.
...how could I, fool that I am, go on sitting in my office, or here at home, instead of leaping onto a train with my eyes shut and opening them only when I am with you?
It is important what a man still plans at the end. It shows the measure of injustice in his death.
Most religions do not make men better, only warier.
A head full of stars, just not in constellation yet.
I want to keep smashing myself until I am whole.