My favorite mode of communication is in the world beyond: a dream, to see in a dream. My second favorite is correspondence.

The one that burned the hottest is the first to die.

An amazing observation: it is precisely for feelings that one needs time, not for thought. ... Feelings, obviously, are more demanding than thought.

Meanings are translatable. Words are untranslatable… More briefly – a word is translatable, its sound is not.

I opened my veins. Unstoppably life spurts out with no remedy. Now I set out bowls and plates. Every bowl will be shallow. Every plate will be small. And overflowing their rims, into the black earth, to nourish the rushes unstoppably without cure, gushes poetry.

How quiet the writing, how noisy the printing.

And soon all of us will sleep under the earth, we who never let each other sleep above it.