People who walk across dark bridges, past saints, with dim, small lights. Clouds which move across gray skies past churches with towers darkened in the dusk. One who leans against granite railing gazing into the evening waters, His hands resting on old stones.

Martyrs do not underrate the body, they allow it to be elevated on the cross. In this they are at one with their antagonists.

Every word first looks around in every direction before letting itself be written down by me.

One must fight to get to the top, especially if one starts at the bottom.

Don't despair, not even over the fact that you don't despair.

One advantage in keeping a diary is that you become aware with reassuring clarity of the changes which you constantly suffer.

If something good has lost its way into you, it will make its escape overnight. I know you.