For the spell is older than experience. For the tale is older than the record.

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

What is the main thing in love? to know and to hide. To know about the one you love and to hide that you love. At times the hiding (shame) overpowers the knowing (passion). The passion for the hidden - the passion for the revealed.

One should write only those books from whose absence one suffers. In short: the ones you want on your own desk.

Don't you know no one can escape the power of creatures reaching out with breath alone?

For the spell is older than experience. For the tale is older than the record.

After a sleepless night the body gets weaker, It becomes dear and not yours - and nobody's. Just like a seraph you smile to people And arrows moan in the slow arteries. After a sleepless night the arms get weaker And deeply equal to you are the friend and foe. Smells like Florence in the frost, and in each Sudden sound is the whole rainbow. Tenderly light the lips, and the shadow's golden Near the sunken eyes. Here the night has sparked This brilliant likeness - and from the dark night Only just one thing - the eyes - are growing dark.