Remember this: one can be a strict logician or grammarian and at the same time full of imagination and music.

All life was a breath exhaled by God. All dying was a breath inhaled by God.

A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to committ outrages.

The tree does not die, it waits.

One can beg, buy, be presented with and find love in the streets, but it can never be stolen.

The world, as it is now, wants to die, wants to perish — and it will.

All this had always been and he had never seen it; he was never present. Now he was present and belonged to it. Through his eyes he saw light and shadows; through his mind he was aware of moon and stars.