But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.

Love has to be…flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.

Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Give me, for my life, all lives, give me all the pain of everyone, I'm going to turn it into hope. Give me all the joys, even the most secret, because otherwise how will these things be known? I have to tell them, give me the labors of everyday, for that's what I sing.

Eating alone is a disappointment. But not eating matter more, is hollow and green, has thorns like a chain of fish hooks, trailing from the heart, clawing at your insides. Hunger feels like pincers, like the bite of crabs; it burns, burns, and has no fur. Let us sit down soon to eat with all those who haven't eaten; let us spread great tablecloths, put salt in lakes of the world, set up planetary bakeries, tables with strawberries in snow, and a plate like the moon itself from which we can all eat. For now I ask no more than the justice of eating.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.