Whenever humanity seems condemned to heaviness, I think I should fly like Perseus into a different space. I don't mean escaping into dreams or into the irrational. I mean that I have to change my approach, look at the world from a different perspective, with a different logic and with fresh methods of cognition and verification.

The soul is often in the surface, and the importance of 'depth' is overestimated.

Futures not achieved are only branches of the past: dead branches.

In love, as in gluttony, pleasure is a matter of the utmost precision.

Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears.

How well I would write if I were not here!

seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space