I have spent my life resisting the desire to end it.

I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.

Art is for the artist is only suffering through which he releases himself for further suffering.

No one can crave what truly harms him.

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.

The worries that are the burden of which the privileged person makes an excuse in dealing with the oppressed person are in fact the worries about preserving his privileged condition.

Simply wait, be quiet, still The world will freely offer itself to you.