Anyone who believes cannot experience miracles. By day one does not see any stars. Anyone who does miracles says: I cannot let goof the earth.

Written kisses never arrive at their destination; the ghosts drink them up along the way.

A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.

How can one take delight in the world unless one flees to it for refuge?

Photography concentrates one's eye on the superficial. For that reason it obscures the hidden life which glimmers through the outlines of things like a play of light and shade. One can't catch that even with the sharpest lens.

I wanted to escape the unrest, to shut out the voices around me and within me, so I write.

They were offered the choice between becoming kings or the couriers of kings. The way children would, they all wanted to be couriers. Therefore there are only couriers who hurry about the world, shouting to each other - since there are no kings - messages that have become meaningless. They would like to put an end to this miserable life of theirs but they dare not because of their oaths of service.