If I'm sincere today, what does it matter if I regret it tomorrow?

This must be what it means to be a ghost, being certain that life exists, because your four senses say so, and yet unable to see it.

Writer's make national literature, while translators make universal literature.

Strictly speaking, we do not make decisions. Decisions make us.

We can escape from everything, but not from ourselves.

Often when you ask for one thing you receive another, this is the mysterious thing about prayer, we address them to heaven with some private intention, but they choose their own path, sometimes they delay, allowing other prayers to overtake them, frequently they overlap and become hybrid prayers of dubious origin, which quarrel and argue among themselves.

... that's how life should be, when one person loses heart, the other must have heart and courage enough for both.