You, who can't do anything, think you can bring off something like that? How can you even dare to think about it? If you were capable of it, you certainly wouldn't be in need of it.

Let me remind you of the old maxim: people under suspicion are better moving than at rest, since at rest they may be sitting in the balance without knowing it, being weighed together with their sins.

There sat I, a faded being, under faded leaves.

Evil is whatever distracts.

You see, I have only such a fugitive awareness of things around me that I always feel they were once real and are now fleeting away.

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

Being alone has a power over me that never fails. My interior dissolves (for the time being only superficially) and is ready to release what lies deeper. When I am willfully alone, a slight ordering of my interior begins to take place and I need nothing more.