Only the moment counts. It determines life.

May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

Writing is a deeper sleep than death. Just as one wouldn't pull a corpse from its grave, I can't be dragged from my desk at night.

I made the remark that I don't avoid people in order to live quietly, but rather in order to be able to die quietly.

Writers speak stench.

Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.