pg.9 "In my heart there's a peaceful anguish, and my calm is made of resignation.

Stones in the road? I save every single one, and one day I'll build a castle.

The world belongs to who doesn't feel. The primary condition to be a practical man is the absence of sensitivity.

I’m losing my taste for everything, including even my taste for finding everything tasteless.

La literatura es la manera más agradable de ignorar la vida.

To be great, be whole; Exclude nothing. Be whole in everything.

If, on thinking this, I look up to see if reality can quench my thirst, I see inexpressive facades, inexpressive faces, inexpressive gestures. Stones, bodies, ideas - all dead. All movements are one great standstill. Nothing means anything to me, not because it's unfamiliar but because I don't know what it is. The world has slipped away. And in the bottom of my soul - as the only reality of this moment - there's an intense and invisible grief, a sadness like the sound of someone crying in a dark room.