I unpetalled you, like a rose, to see your soul, and I didn't see it. But everything around -horizons of land and of seas-, everything, out to the infinite, was filled with a fragrance, enormous and alive.

I do not cut my life up into days but my days into lives, each day, each hour, an entire life.

…Perhaps this momentary life of ours is only the light that divides our infinite origin from our infinite end.

Some of my affectionate envious friends say, "You write too much." Maybe, I answer. But as long as the best of your little is worse than the worst of my much, I will keep on doing so.

Love, you are eternal like springtime.

I unpetalled you, like a rose, to see your soul, and I didn't see it. But everything around -horizons of land and of seas-, everything, out to the infinite, was filled with a fragrance, enormous and alive.

My only two weapons: time and silence.