All that I've lived I've forgotten, as if I'd vaguely heard it. All that I'll be reminds me of nothing, as if I'd lived and forgotten it.

It is noble to be shy, illustrious not to know how to act, great not to have a gift for living.

The chill of what I won't feel gnaws at my present heart.

If after I die, people want to write my biography, there is nothing simpler. They only need two dates: the date of my birth and the date of my death. Between one and another, every day is mine.

Inch by inch I conquered the inner terrain I was born with. Bit by bit I reclaimed the swamp in which I'd languished. I gave birth to my infinite being, but I had to wrench myself out of me with forceps.

The sea with an end can be Greek or Roman: the endless sea is Portuguese.

There’s enough metaphysics in not thinking about anything.