Honor the words that enter and attach to your brain.

The master said you must write what you see / But what I see does not move me / The master answered Change what you see.

He takes her in his arms He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you But he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end You're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.

I had nothing and I was still changed. Like a costume, my numbness was taken away. Then hunger was added.

From the beginning of time, in childhood, I thought that pain meant I was not loved. It meant I loved.

We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory.

Balm of the summer night, balm of the ordinary, imperial joy and sorrow of human existence, the dreamed as well as the lived— what could be dearer than this, given the closeness of death?