While I'm writing, I'm far away; and when I come back, I've gone.

Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

Laughter is the language of the soul.

O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.

We open the halves of a miracle, and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions: creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive: so the freshness lives on

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

And I, infinitesima­l being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke loose on the wind.