We are born to exist, not to know, to be, not to assert ourselves.
You cannot protect your solitude if you cannot make yourself odious.
Wisdom disguises our wounds; it teaches us how to bleed in secret.
What surrounds us we endure better for giving it a name - and moving on.
Only one thing matters: learning to be the loser.
Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!