Love has as few problems as a motor car. The only problems are the driver, the passengers, and the road.
A book must be the ax for the frozen sea within us.
Love is, that you are the knife which I plunge into myself.
I never imagined that so many days would ultimately make such a small life.
The tremendous world I have inside my head. But how free myself and free it without being torn to pieces. And a thousand times rather be torn to pieces than retain it in me or bury it. That, indeed, is why I am here, that is quite clear to me.
One can disintegrate the world by means of very strong light. For weak eyes the world becomes solid, for still weaker eyes it seems to develop fists, for eyes weaker still it becomes shamefaced and smashes anyone who dares to gaze upon it.