Yearning wants mostly to perpetuate itself.
Writing about an idea frees me of it. Thinking about it is a circle of repetitions.
Art seduces, but does not exploit.
Adversity can strengthen us if it does not go on too long.
When my beloved arrives, I yawn. When my beloved departs, I weep.
Sometimes I dread loneliness more than bores. Other times, the reverse.