I ask permission to be like everybody else,like the rest of the world and what's more, like anybody else:I beg you, with all my heart,if we are talking about me, since we are talking about me,please resist blasting the trumpet during my visitand resign yourselves to my quiet absence.

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Place gifts of silver in our hands. Give us this day our daily fish.

Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.