His head is made of stars, but not yet arranged into constellations.

There is no such thing as an ugly language. Today I hear every language as if it were the only one, and when I hear of one that is dying, it overwhelms me as though it were the death of the earth.

It doesn't matter how new an idea is: what matters is how new it becomes.

Death is a scandal. The machine is functioning, we are all hostages

Whenever you observe an animal closely, you feel as if a human being sitting inside were making fun of you.

The profoundest thoughts of the philosophers have something trickle about them. A lot disappears in order for something to suddenly appear in the palm of the hand.

Slumbering in every human being lies an infinity of possibilities, which one must not arouse in vain. For it is terrible when the whole man resonates with echoes and echoes, none becoming a real voice.