And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?

Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.

From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.

And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.

For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.

So the freshness lives on in a lemon, in the sweet-smelling house of the rind, the proportions, arcane and acerb.